Poems ✍️
  01.09.2026
  4

Author: Herbert Nehrlich

Gone**

Much water has been flowing down the river of my years,
some murkey some so clear it looked like baby tears.
The banks are overgrown with reeds and useless weeds
both dropping in the season ripe and fertile seeds.
I stand here at the banks and wait, will you confide?
There is a space for me, just watch the morning tide.


  Reflection Time Aging longing

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