Stations II. 2001

Confined in the most fleeting days
‘tis but a moment you’re drawn to –
rippling the images of destruction,
and drown’d by autumn in the lake of your palms.
You’re able to lean closer and closer
to the tarn of the final minutes,
you watch how recognitions get on with
their job–on your face.

Kálmán Kecskeméti