Classic Poem

(Poland,1989)

Grey clouds in early May,
a hint or threat of rain.
Beyond the tracks a lane,
a bench along the way.

Night watchmen, empty tins
of bargain lager, stars
in smoke, East German cars
with soot on their tail fins.

A little further on—
unheard of graves, hedgerows,
and flocks of hooded crows
delighting in the dawn.