Читать книгу Other Seasons - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 28

when the oldest star shines in heaven

to announce the coming visit, I will

look out the window for the hunched

old women, the junkies they fear, the

mothers who are hustling, the children

with tough questions and the excluded

on the streets. together, we will sing the

ancient ways to have you come nearer,

before our time is done. I will build a

cart for sorrows to collect the worried

news, every word that stumbles, the

cries for the forgiveness of the block’s

dead. I will walk the night with the

staring sky to knock on the weeping

doors, invite the aging forgers, trampled

prostitutes, unrepentant gangsters, predators,

murderers, thieves, even tired old priests,

to line up for bread in your passionate world

that comes. when the oldest star goes forth

in the sky, I will climb the tallest building

to cry like Hannah from the heart for you to

listen.