ALTES JAHR Poem by Erika Burkart
ALTES JAHR
Altes Jahr
schleppt sich an Krücken,
blinzelt ins Licht,
erinnert den Lauf
um die Sonne nicht.
Ein Dichter schrieb, mit rosigen Füssen
betrete das Jungjahr die Erde -
wie ist sie kalt,
taumelt global
die verseuchte Herde.
Dunkler muten die Worte an,
die Tage trüber,
Schatten hasten vorüber,
die Wende ist absehbar.
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5/1/2024 4:32:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
