Читать книгу Kindest Regards - Ted Kooser - Страница 41

The Voyager 2 Satellite

The tin man is cold;

the glitter of distant worlds

is like snow on his coat.

Free-falling through space,

he spreads his arms

and slowly turns,

hands reaching to catch

the white, elusive

dandelion fuzz

of starlight. He is the dove

with wings of purest gold

sent out upon the deep

to seek a place for us,

the goat upon whose back

we’ve sent our problems

into exile, the dreamy beast

of peace and silence

who now grows smaller, smaller,

falling so gracefully

into the great blank face

of God.