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memorial poem

ich sehe allen menschlichen Esprit
ein kleiner Pfirsich im Obstgarten wuchs
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
sie limps mit dem Anhalten des schmerzlichen Schrittes
Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
gute Frau
entlang einem River-side
geschaukelt in die Aufnahmevorrichtung vom tiefen

 



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