When her face
Made of sunlight and wisdom and joy
Gets closer to her pillow
I wonder how would I know
What she bears inside -
A mystification of a kind,
A bit of chaos in her neat and orderly life,
I dread emptiness,
What does she fear?
When her hands
Touch musical instruments
Once again I think
I would be better of
Across the ocean.
When her tone trembles,
Mine gets rough and pulls away from trouble,
For she could have been
The written word's saviour.
*This is a tribute to a living person who might have some common friends with me.
To be more exact, this is an attempt to make a sketch of her literary image.
The author herself has been awarded and nominated numerous times, and her position in the literary world of Ukraine is quite strong.
A tribute to Anna Yutchenko
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123022803122
Свидетельство о публикации №123022803122
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