Читать книгу After Eden - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 20

one long summer morning, I spent

the time trying to count the bricks

that lifted the tenement six stories

high. the wind laughed when it blew

by the stoop where I sat in the rather

hopeless eye-opening task that made

people on the way to work slowdown

to stare at me like a miracle was on its

way. I restarted the count more than

once, pausing until the restless sidewalks

held still and the singing coming from

the storefront church filled with brown

feet for an old-fashioned time of praise,

stopped. my thoughts wandered about

that day making me feel like an actor in

a Tennessee Williams play forgetting

lines. without yielding a single inch,

I kept counting those bricks expecting

an accurate reading would deliver me

to the mystical heaven so many talked

about on the block. then, tired I stopped

counting and promised to try some other

time without stumbling on cracks and

shades.