It was daybreak when we turned

our eyes toward the dark

spot of the horizon where

our fate stood, windless

inexplicable, inaccessible

shamelessly challenging us  

though only him, the one with

the severed arm, sighted and

turned back to the house

where he sat on his chair

such calmness on his face

as if he had solved

all the problems of the world

while we kept our hands

extended so the heavy drops

of the first autumn rain

would fall onto our palms