Outside the village is the bridge
without a road, at the cemetery
Occasionally townspeople sit there
painting it
Sometimes there are children

To me, it is an image
of life and this morning
I came across a woman there
She lay on the abutment
and was scared, did not dare

to come with me, because of me
she lost her no man's land
For the rest, little happens here
There's never any news
and that is official