Читать книгу Waking - Ron Rash - Страница 14

Leaking in the one window,

candle shallow, then deepened,

caught-light gathered on gray planks

like a bowl filling slowly,

a simmer of late summer

distilled to dull yellow glow,

thickening air like honey

as mud daubers and dust motes

drifted above like moments

unmoored from time, and the world

and the sun aligned, grew still.