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life poem

mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
ich sagte
aus dem Fenster heraus ein Meer der grünen Bäume
möglicherweise
ihr schönes Haar
ich habe die stolzesten Sterne gesehen
Schriftsatz auf einer Fliegennacht
pharaoh, König von Land Ägyptens
ich rüttele mein Haar im Wind des Morgens
wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter
ich brenne keinen Duft
wenn ihr Haar wild flaying
allein

 



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