Читать книгу Particles: New and Selected Poems - Dan Gerber - Страница 20
Оглавлениеfrom Exposures at f/22
A bleached negative
pounding off the snow
it dazzles
Nothing prepares us for this
we have filters to cut the glare but long for night
some corner we can’t see around
The light from the window
accentuates her shadows
black crescents
below her breasts
every pore visible
her stomach slopes
to its black triangle
He is feeling the wall
for a streak of sunlight
He is blind and will find it
by its warmth
Above his head
the picture of a crow he painted
It is entirely black
There was no light to surround it
A man in a black cape
tending sheep
or is it a woman
The sun is rising over the trees
Someone died last night
The sheep are uneasy
and run from the shepherd
The sun is white
the trees are grey
Only one
is distinguishable
The door has the texture
of crusted salt
It is one hundred and thirty years old
and hides nothing
worth the three brass locks
which secure it
Garrapata Beach
black mountains white plains
and shadows
the mountains cast shadows
larger than themselves
In the foreground a plateau
forming from mist
He is startled
the clarinet held as something forbidden
the cracked wall
the grapevine
his mouth slightly open
eyebrows arched
He is sixteen and resents this intrusion
It is Tuesday in Havana
May Day
“You’re some kind of man,” she says
looking up
Her arms folded and around her
hats and flags are waving
She wears brass earrings
and a white dress
One eye obscured in shadow
A car is passing
on a silver road
The world around it
is black
It’s going nowhere
and comes from nowhere
It is here at this moment passing
The old woman
walks past the battered wall
A shadow follows her
twisted and huge
It is her shadow
She doesn’t want to see it
She keeps her eyes on the ground
humming some tuneless tune
Thirty-nine geese
and the shadows of thirty-nine geese
