Читать книгу The Heronry - Mark Jarman - Страница 13
ОглавлениеThe Kestrel
While she spoke I saw another encounter.
And then she said there was the drowning heron
who called to her from the whitewater
and another time the owl in daylight
who flew past her window more than once,
the bear who loped through her camp
when her dad died, the cloudless sky
over her mother’s burial plot
where two vapor trails suddenly crisscrossed.
She would not let me go without
another word, another anecdote.
Nothing escaped her hunt for meaning, meaning.
And the kestrel swooped from the treetop,
struck the moth, and looked me in the eye.
