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mom poem

ein mit Ihnen
ich brenne keinen Duft
ich hatte den Fall über-vorbereitet
hoch-getragenes Rennen
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr überschritten
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
umsponnen und gesponnen
traurig sprechend

 



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