Читать книгу Stony the Road - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 7

I saw you last night in a

tear still talking of things

you love, no less certain

of the world turning ever

so slowly in the direction

of God, recollecting out

loud the humblest times

at a kitchen table sharing

hard bread and talking of old

women in the big church who

pray on its steps with disfigured

hands reaching out to heaven. I

saw you in the tiny drop of water

shared, in your whispered words

telling a truth from someplace

else you say can stop arguments

in the world and you the whole

time promised to take me to this

space even before I renounced

my blasphemy or bothered to

kneel in the dark.