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anniversary poem

so verloren
aller Tag zum Aufpassen der blauen Welle sich zu kräuseln und zu brechen
das Swanbestehen
innerhalb meiner Hand halte ich
ich bin der Wind, der wavers
wenig Gatter wurde schließlich erreicht
für war mich ein gaunt, ernstes Ratsmitglied
ein Nebel fuhr unten
wie das Glätten fällt


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