The statues were quickly hidden by weeds. We didn’t know
whether the statues had shrunk or whether the
grasses had grown. Only
a large copper hand remained visible, like a
terrible benediction,
above the tangle of unsightly shapes. Woodcutters
passed by on the road below - they never turned
their heads.
Women no longer slept with their men. We could hear
the night
dropping its apples into the river - one by one.
And later on
the stars quietly sawing through that raised copper
hand.
