(no subject)
if on a winter's night a traveler
outside the town of malbork
leaning from the steep slope
without fear of wind or vertigo
looks down in the gathering shadow
in a network of lines that enlace
in a network of lines that intersect
on the carpet of leaves illuminated by the moon
around an empty grave
what story down there awaits its end?
--he asks, anxious to hear the story