Читать книгу The Dream of Reason - Jenny George - Страница 12

Everything Is Restored

He swallows the last spoonful

of prunes, their soft rapture

in his mouth. Then the jar

is washed under play of light,

then the boy’s mouth

is wiped with a cloth.

He squalls for a moment, then

stops. Everything is restored.

Chime of spoon in the sink.

The boy is lifted out of his seat,

legs swimming in the slow

element. A small seal.

The kitchen ebbs and flows,

sleek afternoon sunshine.

Now the boy is placed

in his crib, now he is slipping

into the silvery minnows

of dreams, a disorder of shine,

particles of motion flickering

beneath the surface.

Harm will come. It’s the kind of knowledge

that ruptures and won’t

repair—an ocean that keeps

on breaking.

The day moves with the gradual logic

of drowning. Evening fills the house.

Oh, where are you? Where are you going?

The mother folds up the ocean

and shuts it in a cupboard.