Читать книгу Breathing Space - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 4

someone told me in a few

days the wind would bring

news of the neighborhood

sliding into perfection, yet

it will not be easy to see with

ordinary eyes, but the birds

resting on the rooftops will

flap their wings to see it clear

for us. as it takes a firm hold

not one disillusionment on the

block will make us think life

is hunger, longing, sadness,

tragedy and loss. someone told

me there must be a religion for

all these brown lives living in

the neighborhood, light-hearted talk

of Tito’s grandfather dancing on

on his only leg, exquisite words

to carry us to the depths, and long

descriptions of a place greater than

the evidence of broken lives. someone

told me to be patient in the world of

poverty and tattered dress, perfection

is just up the street, humming its way

to us and will soon slip with large eyes

unto our street.