Читать книгу Other Seasons - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 10

its late into the night of this

August summer and I sit quietly

with closed eyes feeling all the

years behind me without a thought

in mind. I put down a book that

made good company filled with

an inexplicable happiness the stories

of Julio Cortázar succeed to deliver.

in the dark, enjoying the light of a

small lamp, I imagine voices shouting

from pages to describe the clouds hiding

a sky full of stars, leaves rustling in near

autumn trees, lovers parting again with

unbearable regret, and a child about to

speak. I lean forward like someone in a

mystery waiting for words to lunge from

the dark, which in great stories, find many

ways to say you are beloved on earth.