I travelled through the falling leaves.
The yellow leaves.
The falling wings.
They fell around the lonely trees.
In the lonely grey city.
It were not you.
It was not me.
Just lonely man in cashmere.
He thought he was an ugly one,
But people said he’s pretty.
Those yellow maple leaves were right.
They fell in time.
They knew to fly.
When falling on the grey asphalt
They generate mosaics.
I travelled through the falling leaves.
Through lonely sad and holy trees.
That man in classy cashmere
Unfortunate, but trying.
Through
© Copyright: Евгений Филин-Соколов, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108100500445
Свидетельство о публикации №108100500445
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