Читать книгу After Eden - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 28

I sat behind the little park tree

like it was in the rain forest in

the ascending light of a chilly

morning. the Fort Apache police

parked their car next to the bloody

stain at the other end of the patchy

grassed park, where a young mother

moaned, a priest prayed and the

kids on the block who passed the spot

on foot each day claimed they saw

an Angel with long hair looking over

it. I waited quietly for the beauty of

the block to come walking down the

street, speaking loudly about glorious

things to come, pointing to the paths

calling us to walk with enormous strides

to the very end of the road where neighborhood

church bells ring. whenever tired of the

misaligned world, I would go to that spot

calling on South Bronx spirits to make

dark voices still. I often laughed with

the browning leaves blown by the wind

in that little park that was hidden from

the rest of the city and was comforted by

its sickly trees and song birds kept just

right for my barrio streets.