Читать книгу Second Bloom - Anya Krugovoy Silver - Страница 9

Lately, I’ve wanted to be alone.

To leave home with nothing

but a few books and my favorite shoes.

I’d like to live in the mountains,

but pleasantly, with a broad bed

and cheese and bread for my board.

No computers, no commute.

Just to sit with a pen (like now)

writing honest lines of poetry

that no one is likely to read.

Simple, harmless, with words and firs

for company, some music—

at night, the wind at the shutters,

in times of sorrow, the Psalms.