Читать книгу Word Simple - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 15

in the café the salsa band

charms the crowd, the eyes

are on the little man running

his stubby fingers over the keys

of an upright piano, trombones

slide notes to the corners of the

room, two trumpets have a long

conversation with the congas still

showing a tiny overlooked price

tag dangling from a lug, and at a

table next to the bass player sit a pious

looking couple ready to write Psalms

on the dance floor. life everywhere

in the club can easily be seen through

the window facing the street, felt by

aching souls, bleeding feet, colorless

dreams, and the spinning high places

never seen. in the café the salsa players

offer oil for childish days, harmonies

that set us free, and songs that make us

glad to weep—come and see!