Читать книгу Parallax - Maureen Mulhern - Страница 11

Edging

Across the lake a wire of sun

Climbs slowly up a heron’s leg;

Clamped in the bird’s beak, a fish

Glistens, twisting at the tail.

Stones burst open;

Over them, water spreads

A cold, translucent hand. Brittle

Planks of sunlight lean

Against sea-grape trees and blue

Pines stooping to their roots.

Even by day the moon ticks on,