oh how i want to return to,
oh how i want to burst into a little town
to our street made of three homes
where it's all so plain and known
for a while
with no fear to visit neighbors
where no one is mad or jealous--
dearest home
where the birth's joyfully greeted
and the last respect's completed
by whole block
time goes on, and snows are whirling
and the neighbors are all going their way
and when they tore down the homes
you and i, my friend, were joking:
IT'S OK
once a year a scanty letter
with New year congratulating
wishing well
just some eight bizarre lines
as if some stranger's hand writes--
that's all to tell
faces coming just in dreams
less than half are still familiar--
bright's the light
one year later, open mailbox
two newspapers and no letters--
so goodnight..
little town
© Copyright: Лорд Брайтон, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121040609922
Свидетельство о публикации №121040609922
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