Halbzeitspät
abends
in mundgerechten
Stücken
über den Sinn
und Unsinn
jener Tage nachdenken,
die bunter waren
aber auch
aufreibender,
wacher
aber auch
unsteter,
näher irgendwie
aber auch
schwerer zu
verstehen.
Und dann
mal eben
seufzend in sich
hinein kichern
und denken,
wer liest
denn schon Gedichte
an einem Freitag
Abend um
halb elf?
Erst recht hier…
na, wer denn
schon?
© Michèle Hügin 2024
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