spring water
honey and                                                           
the silk mushroom’s cream           
                       
the juice of love                                               








a thunderstorm
rages within me
                                               
from edge to edge
over the entire firmament of heaven
                                   
first after three months
the sound comes forth           








june
was not good enough

not night
not morning
not day
not evening           
                                               
not july night either
not dawn                                                                                   
not early morning                                               

first when the sunbeams                                   
made really warm                                               
then
finally



                                                                       




good morning           
soccer player                                                           

it was a long           
trip                                                           

your father           
salts us down                                                           
with tears








at two weeks of age                                               
the nighttime screaming started                                   

one and a half liters                                               
between nine and midnight                                               

his tears                                                           
our sweat           








like a famous musician
two concerts every day
three hours straight

with only two listeners
mother and father

day after day
night after night




           



whimpers                                                           
cries                                                           
screams                                                           
            screeams                                               
            screeeeeamsssss                                                           
howls                                                                       
            hoooooowlsssssssssssssssss                                   

bawls                                                                       
            baaaaaaaaaaaawlsssssssssssssss                       

shall I take his life                                               
or mine?           








oh if I could only                                               
send him back                                                           
where he came from                                               
send him with a note                                               
where I write either “defective”                                   
or “wrong delivery”           








here he sits
on a chair
he rests
the brown-eyed
little man

his only assignment
to grow








and here I sit
at the end of the table and watch
I rest
the blue-eyed
tired mother

my only assignment
to grow with him








and so it happened
that I grew
and he grew
and we grew
for two years
two long years








dear
dear little man

and dear
dear big man of mine

we
WE!!!