At the Pine grove..,.


so often

I sit here

between arable field

and green fields

a the pine grove


the sun laughs

a breath of spring

caresses me


send their combined children

on thaier journey


the early singers

ringing busily

for the first concert

in the bushes

close your eyes



the harz mountains

stretch ahead


the hinhest elevation

of the low mountain


to the west


the brocken


in silhouettes

I recogize




Dieter Schönefeld - Copyright 2020. All rights reserved.

Veröffentlicht30. Dezember 2020 von Dieter Schönefeld in Kategorie "Gesellschaftskritische Lyrik

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