The town with which we fell asleep
and got up together
seems to be leaving
Deaf are its places of happiness
crammed with things we don’t remember
Have we travelled the roads of our own choice
or were we negligent when we thought
that someone pushed the sun toward sunset
It would’ve been better if we’d believed
that we wavered into its shadow
The town emerges from the night’s ruins
The lights of its windows
travel southward
The people get on it silently
The people get off it silently
Near to death near to life