Читать книгу Terrible Blooms - Melissa Stein - Страница 20

Thanksgiving

Swan folding its head

into its wing. That snow—

falling into the water. My friend’s

daughter in the car seat,

sleeping. The water is ice.

The plow doing its job

along the night roads.

Night roads doing their job

of being dark, and slippery.

The crisp perfection of an envelope.

The blank perfection of a sheet.

The snow on the windshield

a tunnel of wings

my friend is driving through.