Читать книгу Washita - Patrick Lane T. - Страница 12

BOXWOOD

The child splitting kindling in the cold shed at dawn

is learning how to trust the eye, not the hand,

and not the hatchet, for these last go where the eye wills.

Still, the child will cut himself more than once

until he learns to go past the eye, the kindling falling

like music, sprung notes clear in the morning.