THE STREET

It’s a long and silent street. 

I walk in the dark and trip and fall

And get up and step blindly

On the mute stones and dry leaves

And someone behind me is also walking:

If I stop, he stops;

If I run, he runs. I turn around: no one.

Everything is black, there is no exit,

And I turn and turn corners

That always leads to the street

Where no one waits for me, no one follows,

Where I follow a man who trips

And gets up and says when he sees me: no one.