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best friend poem

in können Sie
es gibt keine Menge, gleichwohl aufgepaßt und geneigt
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
steigender Mond hat die Sterne versteckt
meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen
als weiße Kerze

 



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