By Pavel Chichikov
And as I walked this thoroughfare I peered
Sometimes to the left or to the right, down
Smaller streets debouching from the side –
It was the same, destruction and the fires
But once, far in the distance, saw a horse –
The sturdy gelding was it? – so I thought,
It looked familiar though a silhouette
They way it moved, tight-jointedly, unforced
Against the growing dimness saw red sparks
Fly up from its feet – with hope I followed,
Thinking of its mastery of space
A way perhaps of fleeing from this sorrow
But never drew much closer – as I crept
Within a dozen yards the beast removed
Or dwindled in the distance in effect,
And stamped the glowing sparkles with its hooves
So then I left off hoping, and I felt
My way back to the boulevard, the gloom
Was getting thicker and the smoke
Made solid outlines waver, seethe and melt
I came upon a queue, a line that stretched
Along the road, a hundred folk or more
Stooped in hopeless misery that fetched
A blankness to their faces, apathy
I felt, without awareness verified
By evidence, or gossip ( there was none)
In this silent gathering, yet knew
By sympathy – the people terrified –
That all were doomed to slavery, or worse
Captivity was close upon them, near
As fire to their foreheads was – a weird,
And nameless, overwhelming fear
Their relatives and friends already gone
Vanished in a dreadful mystery
Vanished in an instant, violently –
Taken by a force that none could see
The Shoulder of the Sun Part Ten will be featured tomorrow.
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