Дата: 17-03-2009 | 05:31:15
The blue creamy
pads of twilight cushion
Eanna and me
as we listen
to the cooling roof
that makes brief
popping sounds,
a series
of stable chords spread
through the incessant
mayhem of insects,
and the jam-topped loaf
with bitten edges
glitters in the window.
A slow,
cautious step above,
a sense of a paw
pressing into plaster.
Eanna very quietly
hides her face in my armpit.
A leopard!
Planets roaming on his hide,
a breathing silhouette
cut out from the seamless plaid of night.
Petrified with terror
I think which gods
would listen to my prayer
at a time like this.
I can't pray to the moon
for she gave the leopard the amber for his eyes,
I can't pray to the stars
for they graced the leopard's skin with their orbs,
I can't pray to the night,
for she gave the leopard the murk behind his jaws.
Trembling in darkness,
I sort aloud names on names,
and names on names of gods and goddesses
calling them all, inventing new ones –
this lulls Eanna, she begins to purr,
and I, exhausted, soon join her.
Вланес, 2009
Сертификат Поэзия.ру: серия 790 № 68654 от 17.03.2009
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