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friend poetry

vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
unter meinem Fenster in einer Stadtstraße
ich muß sagen gute Nacht
noch schaukelt ihr Grau Aufsatz über das Meer
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiß
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
die Luft ist wie ein Schmetterling
während ich das Hören stand, diskret dumb
weich weinend
vor dem ernsten Bronzeheiligen

 



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