Читать книгу Scarecrow - Robert Fernandez - Страница 12

we adorn

I ask for the broken ladder to fill my head

for sunstroke, red horns of wheat

for dailiness, let me know particulars

O red horn brightened in my chest,

the hairs are countless, I ask

for lozenges like islands, and the color—

red yellow blue—staining the dark

I ask for daylight, forms noticed, held, cut

down from shadow and trembling, held

for the moon’s horn filled with red honey

and for the chance of day, a gamble with red chips

The time is taken, culled, like

fruit the time has darkened, blue,

seven panes of glass crushed into the roots

the time is deadly, a coral snake

and we adorn, we adorn