Monday, June 26, 2017

Evening Walk by Charles Simić

Evening Walk

You give the appearance of listening 
To my thoughts, O trees, 
Bent over the road I am walking 
On a late summer evening 
When every one of you is a steep staircase 
The night is slowly descending.

The high leaves like my mother’s lips 
Forever trembling, unable to decide, 
For there’s a bit of wind, 
And it’s like hearing voices, 
Or a mouth full of muffled laughter, 
A huge dark mouth we can all fit in 
Suddenly covered by a hand.

Everything quiet. Light 
Of some other evening strolling ahead, 
Long-ago evening of silk dresses, 
Bare feet, hair unpinned and falling. 
Happy heart, what heavy steps you take 
As you follow after them in the shadows.

The sky at the road’s end cloudless and blue. 
The night birds like children 
Who won’t come to dinner. 
Lost children in the darkening woods.

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