I beg you, my darling, don't cry - it will pass.
Don't follow your friend, cut your feet in the grass.
I promise to look back on the margin at last
Afore the first step to the woods.
The winds take my hand, they push me inside;
Soon I'll be left with no friends on my side.
The first has her way, while wind cannot hide
Amidst curvy trees in green hoods.
The first step is not always the worst step at all.
Apparently it's just a response to the call.
Light as it is, it warns you will crawl,
Leaving a track in the woods.
To get more complicated and wavy it tends -
A frightful sign pointing at several ends.
But having a hope to greet both of my friends
I dream to emerge from the woods.
In the woods
© Copyright: Анна Кабанова, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116050100986
Свидетельство о публикации №116050100986
Рецензии