I’m full again
With space, with light,
The forest is far away,
And the hills are close,
They change their places
Becoming yearning,
Word is speaking and trying
To escape from the destiny.
The coldness of the wine warms me,
The space gives me home.
The month passes
As collecting taxes,
Which is impossible to visit,
But it took from the hill
A pure layer of snow,
And ivies - from window.
Disappearance
© Copyright: Анна Иерусалимская, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111062102485
Свидетельство о публикации №111062102485
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