Me? A pit
in grandfather’s garden,
inside dry leaves, raked together,
hits me
urine from the tomcat next door
and the marbles of a small girl.
Inside me burns a fire,
inside me people hide,
inside me glances fall in secret,
suddenly bodies are lying here,
clods of soil filling me up.
Am I afraid?
The feeling seals my mouth tight.
In the darkness something new is born,
the moment of my death arrives,
and yet my heart is light.
Was I only there for waste disposal,
and now I am hidden beneath flowers.