I listen to the house,
how to make it from a standstill
feeling transmitted,
gives the unknown a name.

Old houses make more noise
even though they are tired. Of living.
Being his own.

Walls grow from her joints
moaning in the wind
the refrigerator buzzing and sighing
restless
a crane drips
meek
Steps cracking in case of turmoil
do not think anything

but the house lives, her heart
extends from room to room
and calls to listen

puts her soul to your attention.


#gedicht

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