Brooding, there was but
sky in front,
yellow candles for the dead.
The disappearance of the corner
of a first-class carriage,
and the body of the unfortunate,,
long, clean cut,
handled knife,
loomed so gloomily.

She thought it would be
through which she was him,
clasped a red and black closed hand,
ran all around the house
from which all had gone.