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grandmother poem

im Bereich
sehen Sie, sie zurückgehen
aber ich kann nicht Sie jetzt lesen
der Regen sein rüber und die leuchtende Luft
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
Moonlight tief und zart
gegangen vor uns
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
er war ein hohes junges oysterman
während ich das Hören stand, diskret dumb

 



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