Читать книгу Kindest Regards - Ted Kooser - Страница 44

Porch Swing in September

The porch swing hangs fixed in a morning sun

that bleaches its gray slats, its flowered cushion

whose flowers have faded, like those of summer,

and a small brown spider has hung out her web

on a line between porch post and chain

so that no one may swing without breaking it.

She is saying it’s time that the swinging were done with,

time that the creaking and pinging and popping

that sang through the ceiling were past,

time now for the soft vibrations of moths,