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haiku poetry

die alten Songs
weich weinend
ich weiß nicht wo
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
wölbte die Flut
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
Tage endeared zu jedem MUSE
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge
alle innen und alle ohne mich
ich hatte einen Traum und ich wachte mit ihm auf
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
und so geht sie

 



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