Читать книгу dampness - Jasen Sousa - Страница 7

I know by the way Eastern White Pines dance

on my ceiling in dawn,

by the way the sky opens her grey eyes.

I know by the way showers behind my walls

erupt like opened fire hydrants,

by the 747’s blinking red lights

that appear in my window

every morning at 4:50.

I know by the way the 96 bus releases a big breath

before it’s ready to lift people to work, by the elevator

ding called by the overnight security guard

who lives across from me.

I know by the way the maintenance man’s wheels sink in cracks

of the foundation rolling away from the trash shoot,

by the way it doesn’t feel right

to be here on my back any longer.

I know by the way distant doors down the hallway

open and close, by the smell of diri kolé ak pwa that crawls underneath my door.

I know by the taste in my mouth

and by the sand that stacks itself

in the corner of my eye

that it is time

to begin my day.