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baby shower poem

ich liebe mein Leben, aber nicht zu gut
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
wie das Glätten fällt
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
Sonne und Wind und Schlag von Meer
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir

 



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