.jpg)
Sport 40: 2012
[Untitled]
page 238
[Untitled]
We drove
above us flocks of small birds
like dark spots
marking our way
through the sky
You were holding a cake
in one hand
I was eating
you turned up the volume
I listened
you pointed to the rain-drenched
barns and fields
I saw
the wispy mists
of your country
I am weaving you in
and he wove me in
we were late at the counter
why didn’t he
remove his sunglasses
I saw a few crumbs
where I had been sitting
and the way the leather bulged