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christian poem

ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend
ich stehe im kalten grauen Wetter
die Sonne ist oben
Schatten legen entlang broadway
ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes
fällt hier kein Licht
wer den Wind nennen wird
so gefallen
möglicherweise ist es gleichgültig, das Sie starben
hören Sie den Regen?
und mein Name ist truthful
gestiegen von den Toten
auf und ab geht ihn

 



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