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teen poem

ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
GlĂĽck
denken Sie, mein Junge, wenn ich meine Arme um Sie setze
obwohl ich wenig als alle kleinen Sachen bin
er wĂĽrde sogar seinen Witz haben
wie er wer Geist in der Flamme des Mittages
ich bilde meinen Abschirmrahmen, aber niemand weiĂź
auf und an
ich sterbe

 



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