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acrostic poem

die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
lassen Sie nicht hören
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
ein dünner grauer Schatten auf dem Rand des Gedankens
holen Sie mir weichen Song
und während wir gingen, wurde das Gras schwach gerührt
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
lassen Sie mich traurig sein
das endlose, dumme merriment der Sterne

 



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