Poem by Weronika Rydelek
First there was a rush
Of a tram before my eyes
And for a brief moment, I feared that the world would collapse
But it simply bowed, then swallowed its echoes
Some time later the sun, re-railed again, reached the socle
Enveloping the sculptures in a maroon-like aureole
As I lay my eyes on them, they had no expressions
Just dark shapes, the tightness of muscle
Pierced by thousands of needles
It lasted for a moment, then dispersed,
And for quite some time, we walked
Through the thick milk of purple fog
Together, as if through a hell of sunken clouds
