Читать книгу Other Seasons - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 18

the future, is resting

on the steps of the old

building with chipped

bricks, where the old man

likes to sit to stare at windows

on the other side of the street.

in his pocket buried deep is an

unopened letter from a love still

wept that long ago descended into

a still dark. a child takes a place

beside him and with an upward glance

smiles for his older eyes, making any

semblance of sadness on the stoop take

flight. together they sat jumping over

shadows, searching for spots on the sidewalk

that glowed, and laughing about the Summer

drifting away. for hours they kept company

greeting the changing day, naming creatures

in the clouds slowly floating by, feeling love

moved to offer the changing tides a gentle peace

costing nothing to believe.