Evening, 1992-07-29

1 sheet ; 30 x 21 cm. Holograph with corrections in red. A poem (Note 2)

If the evening is a lonely fortress,
The west gate open to sunset glow,
Why are all the travellers on horseback
That hurry allowed only a passage out
And never an admission in?
And once out they're all ambushed
With sunset clouds turned black flags
And the west gate closed behind
-- Often I asked the garrison,
But was answered only by bats
Flitting over, ah, an empty fort.
　　　　　　-- 1992.7.29