FOR RAIMUND (four years later)

I have written
three poems
that were sad

deserted yachts
in a lonely
beach

stains of
dry and ugly
blood

and blue green eyes
that ache
so bad.

Ach,du
with the painful
heart

that is buried
in a hearty laugh
of steel

and funny tales
of a world
gone mad.

I laughed
with you
like a lonely clown

a smitten fly
caught
in a spider’s web


that you spun
around my
innocent head.

You have to go
I do not know
where

to set
me free from
this invisible jail

so I can fly
with the dove
in the spring of sky.

I no longer
miss you
like years ago

but there are nights
when the full
moon Is out

and my sad
poems
fill the air.

Ach, du
with the
beautiful heart

this will not
be the last
sad poem

that I will write.