Melody
Sad as a person,
As a person –
A melody of melodies.
What hurts above yourself
And kolobrodit,
Like over a battered nest
In the mown grass,
Pale face,
On the chest puny -
Autumn.
Yes, no, I love,
But I can't allow it.
Crows cough in anticipation of winter.
Oh, let them clear their throat,
Crows.
Crows
Coughing in cold gardens:
On the four corners
The web of fogs,
Excised by the rains,
Naked jackets
They go into the distance,
Like the ruins of an ancient izvoda,
Like the silver trail of a snail on your arm.
And all nature
In a strange tetanus -
Like a flying wing
Petrified swing,
Like a dream in a dream in which the sleeper
Dreaming,
Forgetting,
Hands translates on the clock,
As a memory
Flipping through the faces.
Spring elegy of autumn
© Copyright: Артём Огурцов, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122102806354
Свидетельство о публикации №122102806354
Рецензии
Ах, весна, ты, сприн, весна,
Точно будет не до сна.
Правда, скоро грянет винтер,
Но в лав стори буду спринтер.
Солнечная Бора 06.11.2022 21:02 • Заявить о нарушении
Точно будет не до сна.
Правда, скоро грянет винтер,
Но в лав стори буду спринтер.
Солнечная Бора 06.11.2022 21:02 • Заявить о нарушении