The lab is painted beige. However,
Its large windows allow a lot Of sun. It’s a dingy neighborhood, If each person would only tend his plot Of land or rebuild the mayor’s mansion, If only the fishing boats again Were swaying in the swell. The sleek, Silver albacore flicker, but the men Have left their boats moored. The silver Rain will come, rivulets In the streets, puddles in the fields, Puckering the sea; the nets On the boats glinting, the barometer falls, The pine needles shine, and then the bird Singing, the stores open, children In rubber boots and puddles blurred.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Yaacov David Shulman
Archives
October 2019
Categories |