Flocks of dragonflies flow around my body,
green hair glides down the shallow river of a poetic trance,
letting water into my slippery mind.
Watching the earth with delight,
accepting the kisses and glances of the nimble fish,
I catch her silhouette in my pupil
like a black butterfly on a flower,
left to languish in the depths of July noon.
The sky and the backwaters saw shadows and light,
the wet sheen of my body surrounded by a grove,
where, on the banks of a languid river,
clinging to the grass and inhaling the aroma of clover,
I collected the July odors
and the fragments of the green dream that entered me...
By the green river
© Copyright: Александр Копытин 2, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124093002854
Свидетельство о публикации №124093002854
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