Wind comes up,
begins to blow
dust over
the pavement.
Noisy place
of a town,
prefer to leave,
not to feel
the dolour
of remembering
sunny days.
Wolkensonne
Wind kommt auf,
beginnt über
staubiges Pflaster
zu wehen.
Laute Stadt.
Ziehe es vor
zu gehen,
um nicht
den Schmerz
der Erinnerung
an sonnige Tage
zu spüren.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Inge Offermann.
Published on e-Stories.org on 15.05.2010.
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