Читать книгу My Barefoot Rank - David Craig - Страница 6
Fall is here before the leaves know it
Оглавлениеbut the foliage has no time for abstractions,
absorbing heat, sequestering, conspiring,
each vestige twisting in the wind.
They scrape against every new name
as they descend, trying to understand
what is happening in the world.
Water is their game, their long epitaph.
Stars are their residence.
Stolid, these trees are libraries, books—
as are the snails, the chained dog next door,
yapping in protest.
They all bow, stand against us, housing
our temporal lives.
This is why we push. This is why we define
ourselves and take their spaces for our own.
This is why we rage through our seven-year skins—
because we don’t live here forever, want to.
Each person struggles in a battle he can’t win,
sets himself against his planted grass, cuts it
every other Saturday, our angst against what is.