Читать книгу Gold from the Stone - Lemn Sissay - Страница 15

As Is Life

The kingfisher plummets into the river

And captures the winding fish.

As is life . . .

The birdwatcher slowly gropes the ground for his binoculars,

Not daring to move his eyes from what he sees.

It could be fear in his eyes, it could be compassion.

His hands begin to get agitated

And so does he.

His eyes cringe as he cautiously looks for his binoculars,

His head turns to his binoculars, and he slowly reaches for them.

And a rustle of wings, a shimmer in the silent air,

The kingfisher in full flight,

Sinks into the silence of the mere.

The birdwatcher cocks his head to the side in an angry but what

Could have been a mellow moment.

As is life . . .