so offen

I sit here

betwenn arable field

and green hallway

at the pine grove

the sunis laughing

a hint of spring

caresses me

pusteb lumen

send their seed childen

one the trip

the early singers

ring the bell

for the first concert

in the shrubs

close jour  eyes

listen

the harz mountains

expand ayo

me out

the highest elevation

of the low mountain rage

to the west

the chunk

in silhouettes

I recognize