Ich habe mir abgeschminkt, Gedichte schreiben zu können. Umso schöner, dass ich Teil eines Gedichtes wurde.
"Riding on a Train to Vienna"
Outside, the banks of snow are clouds
Parting a path for our trip.
Yellow windows glowing against blue
Light the strangers' way.
Simon's legs fold to his chest
Like an accordian as he sleeps.
He is deaf to the kisses
of the Swedish couple beside us,
And the squeak of the luggage above us.
I shiver. My socks are damp
from the walk to the station.
The train cuts with energy along its track.
Like me, it is wide awake,
Away from home.
Liz, i love you.
"Riding on a Train to Vienna"
Outside, the banks of snow are clouds
Parting a path for our trip.
Yellow windows glowing against blue
Light the strangers' way.
Simon's legs fold to his chest
Like an accordian as he sleeps.
He is deaf to the kisses
of the Swedish couple beside us,
And the squeak of the luggage above us.
I shiver. My socks are damp
from the walk to the station.
The train cuts with energy along its track.
Like me, it is wide awake,
Away from home.
Liz, i love you.
derGarfunkel - am Mittwoch, 15. September 2004, 15:09
