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good bye poem

die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
er spricht nicht gut
unter dem Erntemond
voll von den Rissen
von Fußboden zu Decke
um so bald zu diesem zu kommen stellte sich Dunkelheit vor
ich bin fevered
ein kleiner Pfirsich im Obstgarten wuchs
ich liebe, eine Weile weg zu stehlen
ein süß ernster Gedanke
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
aus dem tiefen heraus und die Dunkelheit

 



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