Читать книгу River House - Sally Keith - Страница 10

2.

Circular the table for eating, around which we talked.

Golden branches vaulted the roads.

The trip to Colorado had already been planned.

Otherwise, I would never have left.

Maybe you know my friend.

Spectra inside spectra make cataclysm of day.

Something like that. Disorder in all things.

Mother, I won’t call to complain anymore.

The geraniums are enormous. Bougainvilleas crowd the walls.

Given a box, some people imagine a hammer and nails.

In some kinds of poems, the arms are love.

The day I ran with Dan at the reservoir,

I hated how slow I was, but loved that my lungs could burn.

Many years ago in school a visiting poet read my poem.

I said I didn’t know what the poem was.

Of course you do, she said.