Do you remember the night of September?
How I ran desperately through the garden?
It's dark and wait anymore,
And I fled, sensing freedom.

I saw bonfires burning in the distance.
I heard birds singing in the trees.
To stay? Wait? Turn to river?
To listen? Stop again?

Trample those who slowly fled, flew.
Shuffle and rake in an armful.
They will arrange an unscheduled execution.
They will remain on the empty sneakers.