Читать книгу Other Seasons - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 12

I liked coming out of the Blue Note

that autumn night with the long slow

walk past people sitting on the slanted

benches of Washington Square Park,

the occasional leaf tumbling down on

the heads of kids riding skateboards,

students marking pages in their books,

the middle-aged chess players focused

on a game, and on the south end of the park

toddlers shrieking with attempted swings on

a jungle gym. I looked up at the night sky

convinced I could reach out to polish the

stars to help them cast more gracious light

on every toiler here. slowly, I made my

way down half-deserted streets trying not

to step on the sidewalk cracks, nearing

home, I prayed for Eden’s distant friends

led astray and looked on all the quiet corners

for stirs of sweet life.