Читать книгу The Glass Constellation - Arthur Sze - Страница 9

A wavering line of white-faced ibises,

flying up the Rio Grande, disappears.

A psychic says, “Search a pawnshop

for the missing ring.” Loss, a black hole.

You do not intend to commit a series of

blunders, but to discover in one error

an empty cocoon. A weaver dumps

flashlight batteries into a red-dye bath.

A physicist says, “After twenty years,

nothing is as I thought it would be.”

You recollect watching a yellow-

and-black-banded caterpillar in a jar

form a chrysalis: in days the chrysalis

lightened and became transparent:

a monarch emerged and flexed its wings.

You are startled to retrieve what you forgot:

it has the crunching sound of river

breakup when air is calm and very clear.