Читать книгу Kindest Regards - Ted Kooser - Страница 22

Five P.M.

The pigeon flies to her resting place

on a window ledge above the traffic,

and her shadow, which cannot fly, climbs

swiftly over the bricks to meet her there.

Just so are you and I gathered at 5:00,

your bicycle left by the porch, the wind

still ringing in it, and my shoes by the bed,

still warm from walking home to you.