Читать книгу The Village on Horseback - Jesse Ball - Страница 51

By an old mill my father is waiting

with hundreds of other fathers.

I would like for them to keep

each other company,

but from here it is plain—

none of them is speaking.

What’s that in his hand?

An old leather wallet.

He’s taking something out of it,

a picture, I wonder of whom.

Who next will go to join him,

walking long there

in the early places of my life?