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def poetry jam

sind sie traurig, die nicht Liebe kennen
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
Nobility des Todes wieder
im Hafen neuen Yorks
neben einem geschlagenen Feld
wölbte die Flut
gegen die grüne Flamme des Weißdorn-Baums
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
ich gehe meine Weise complacently
ein Nebel fuhr unten
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
in allen Sachen gesprochen nicht von
ich habe eine Furcht in meinem Leben gehabt
haben wir keine Schande?

 



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