4)

Epitaphs

I
Drowning
I felt for a moment reaching towards me
finger tips against mine.

II
You mice,
that ate the crumbs of my freedom,
lo!

III
The clock strikes;
these are the steps of our departure.

IV
A brown oak leaf
scraping the sidewalk
frightened me.

V
Proserpine
swallowed only six seeds
of the pomegranate
and had to stay six months among the dead—
I was a glutton.