fall
it's like the trees are letting go
of what they'd been feeding their souls to all summer
as if they'd given up
let their leaves drop
when they saw that the sun wouldn't listen with half an ear
to the windswept music their leaves were playing all year
spending their whole life waiting in place
hoping the sun would stop running her race,
would turn around and look for a while
at the picture one tree has been painting for her
"am I right?", the tree asks himself, "to not hold
on to my violet wit and my prideful crown's gold
my hopeful green laugh and my ruby red heart
I displayed for my sun, vulnerable like art?"
now standing by himself, shaded and bare
he wished his slender knotted arms
could catch the time he has lost
and yet he was, no matter the cost
doing it all again the following season
soft at his core, it was easy enough to deceive him;
a glimpse of warmth
and he would think winter was over and the sun had changed her mind
DU LIEST GERADE
Gedichte
PoetryEine Ansammlung von Gedichten, mit meinem Herzen geschrieben sind es wahre Geschichten, vom Leben, vom Sterben, vom Lieben, vom Dunklen, vom Lichten auf dass ihr es werdet lieben so sehr wie ich, denn am Ende ist Leben gleich siegen
