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autumn poetry

er wird gegangen
wer den Regen liebt
süsses splendor
ich liebe mein Leben, aber nicht zu gut
geheimnisvolle Nacht
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle
Roses und Gold
ich sah ihn einmal vorher
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht

 



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