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life poetry

meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
der Himmel
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr überschritten
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
holen Sie mir weichen Song
herrlich und schrecklich Ihre Liebe
ich fülle diese Schale
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
dieses Jahr
Material des Mondes
mit den meek, braunen Augen


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