the rain

Gustaf Munch-Petersen: The Lowest Country

the rain came –,

and the men crouched

holding their rags of clothes up under their bellies

their backs blinking like oil pools in the night

and swayed back and forth,

to pass the time –,

their wet cheeks chewed sunflower-seeds,

while the water ran

and filled the night –

 

early the men got dressed

and sang to a clear sky

and early they bent their backs

under a new sun –