Читать книгу Red Rover Red Rover - Bob Hicok - Страница 19

Interlude

In the little swale where my wife sleeps

to my right, I grow roses

whenever she goes away

for the weekend to see her family.

A place for everything

and everything glowing

on the inside if you close your eyes

and look. How old will I be

when I die? Zero: a babe in the arms

of the afterlife. How old will I be

when I figure out how to stand

unobtrusively among the junipers

growing taller and more resilient

in the night? She comes home,

sees the roses and knows

I’ve been up all night

watering our life,

caretaker of the presence

of her absence. Hello

my deepest breath. Hello

falling through space

from our little while together

standing still.