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pumpkin poem

sie muß zurück gehen, sagte sie
erklären Sie mir weniger oder erklären Sie mir mehr
grünes Nachmittagsserene und hell
wer der Läufer in den Himmeln ist
alter Wein zum Trinken
nie in meinem ganzem Leben
wölbte die Flut
der Himmel
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
Moonlight tief und zart
sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen

 



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