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footprint poem

Nacht war schwarz und drear
wer den Regen liebt
Schatten legen entlang broadway
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
meine Mutter unterrichtete mich daß jede Nacht
ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
ich sah die erste Birne
traurige Rolle der gedämpften Trommel hat Schlag
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
rückwärts drehen Sie sich rückwärts

 



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