Вино из одуванчиков

           Helayinhisbedandthetownsleptaroundhimandtheravinewasdarkandthelakewasmovingquietlyonitsshoreandeveryone,hisfamily,hisfriends,theoldpeopleandtheyoung,sleptononestreetoranother,inonehouseoranother,orsleptinthefarcountrychurchyards.

           Heshuthiseyes.

           Junedawns,Julynoons,Augusteveningsover,finished,done,andgoneforeverwithonlythesenseofitalllefthereinhishead.Now,awholeautumn,awhitewinter,acoolandgreeningspringtofiguresumsandtotalsofsummerpast.Andifheshouldforget,thedandelionwinestoodinthecellar,numberedhugeforeachandeveryday.Hewouldgothereoften,starestraightintothesununtilhecouldstarenomore,thenclosehiseyesandconsidertheburnedspots,thefleetingscarsleftdancingonhiswarmeyelids;arranging,rearrangingeachfireandreflectionuntilthepatternwasclear...

           Sothinking,heslept.