Mrs. Reed’s Found Poetry

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They Turned Him

(Found poem from Albert Camus’s “The Guest”)

 The sun is drinking up the puddles,

Vibrating faster and faster.

The police. They are expecting.

A steamy heat is rising.

Still holding the money to his chest,
Surveying the two directions,
The Arab walks slowly on the road to prison.

A peak stands sharply against the blue sky.

Bathed in sweat, chaotic. A sort of panic is visible in his expression.
He watches the clear light bathing the surface of the plateau,
Hearing nothing but his own step resounding on the cold ground.
Now I’m leaving you. There is no longer anyone on the hill.

There is nothing but the sky.

They turned him rather roughly. According to their law.

The invisible lands stretched all the way to the sea.