Читать книгу Tart Honey - Deborah Burnham - Страница 13

Thank you for the picture of November roses,

unmarked by frost. Thanks for telling me

about Andre Kertesz, and how in 1915

he snapped two Polish soldiers on their field latrine,

and how he kept their dignity clean and useful

like the straw they clutched.

One story says that Kertesz sent the photo

to one soldier’s widow. Not likely—but if he did,

I bet she thanked him for believing that a man’s

last printed moment is worth keeping,

even if his pants are down.

I’ve stopped editing the awkward moments from our

life-film—our yawns, snores, belches, silences, leaving

them intact beside our loving grins, like November