۵

Someone was saying

something about shadows covering the field, about

how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning

and the morning goes.



Someone was saying

how the wind dies down but comes back,

how shells are the coffins of wind

but the weather continues.



It was a long night

and someone said something about the moon shedding its

white

on the cold field, that there was nothing ahead

but more of the same.



Someone mentioned

a city she had been in before the war, a room with two

candles

against a wall, someone dancing, someone watching.

We began to believe



the night would not end.

Someone was saying the music was over and no one had

noticed.

Then someone said something about the planets, about the

stars,

how small they were, how far away.

Mark Strand