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lost love poem

wölbte die Flut
was wir jetzt tut
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
in die Dunkelheit und Frieden meinem abschließenden Betts
über dem Fluß winken sie zu mir zu
was spiteful Wahrscheinlichkeit unawares stiehlt
läßt lang das Sommertageslicht glänzen
achtzig Jahre haben und mehr überschritten
Liebe ist tausend Möglichkeiten gesungen worden

 



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