Gard Sivik. Jaargang 3

[p. 9]

concorde
rudy kousbroek

Parts of the bridge are gone; the sky is black.
The square is ten thousand years old. When has it happened?

The empty fountains, sagging in the dusk,
Are brittle as sand, grass grew profusely
Between the cobbles and died, concealing
Dry skeletons of birds, and coins.
Dust covers all. The shadows have not moved in years.

The crying people are drawn on the sidewalk, about the van,
All new, the dust intact around its fresh black tyres,
Bending around it, they bend painfully,
I feel how heavily, and darkness falls.

The blood is real, red and bright on the doors of the van;
It is your blood and you are there.
You are young; your fingers are mangled by the doors,
O my love you are hurt, I race and race
O my love.