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baby poem

ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
und mit dem Summenvogel
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
sie hörte die Kinder, in der Sonne zu spielen
die alten Songs
häufig denke ich an die schöne Stadt
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
ich stand
ein Dichter, nachdem den Zaum seine Zunge entfernt habend

 



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