Читать книгу Strangers - Rob Taylor - Страница 15
Love, fidelity, etc.
ОглавлениеI do not wear you
when I shower, when I sleep,
when playing sports or making things,
my knuckles thick in dirt or grease,
though I wear you now on the hand
behind my head, which tilts it to the page.
Remember when I lost you
those six months beneath the driver’s seat?
You must have hidden in my pocket—
the one inside the other—
and when I wriggled out the keys
you ventured too.
Folks think you represent
but we both know you’re
up there in the darkness of my hair
or, one time, waiting in the car.
When I rediscovered you
we were both prodigals’ fathers
grieving our sons,
though it was my hand, of course,
reached out in welcome,
my mouth that rushed the story to my wife.
Yes, you arrived with my marriage.
You’ll go at the end, off to some necklace or pouch
or you’ll linger years in the earth
until all you encircle is earth
and a scavenger prospects you up,
as I did, from the muck.
It wasn’t much. I was in the field.
I knelt. My hands were bare.