curled up
make small sounds
whisper, scurry around
like furry animals, mice
under the planks ,
sometimes they squeak,
sharp little noises
i don't understand
their language
nor what is about,
my dreams hide
or is it me, a strange
man, to walk forever
in disguise, half
and inbetween
my mind a well
and a prison , me
to be freed by
the laugh of a god
and by a rustle
in the willow tree
i clap my hands
and go
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