Читать книгу Canticle of the Night Path - Jennifer Atkinson - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCanticle of Assisi Rain
An olive branch threaded with clear beads of rain.
The whole tree swagged with garlands of rain.
Fog, the same fog cowl Chiara wore,
That scarved her hair and shoulders, before, after, during the rain.
Pecking for crumbs in the gravel, fledglings
Hunch up and soften like bread in the rain.
The cypresses nod, a solemn quorum of elders,
A jury to rule on the rights of rain.
The lines of the city are washed away or left undrawn—
The road, wall, far side of the garden—forgotten, dissolved in the rain.
