A gloomy day gave a white weightless snows.
They fell from a deep height and melted,
transforming quietly into small drops.
Ones stuck around things as laces.
The glassy laces looked completely strange.
They had been made of the thin silver
elastic threads, fused from the round samples.
There was the world inside the spheres.
Everything stayed, wrapped into a wet veil,
as in a net of a huge spider.
Everything was encased into the samples
and looked through wrinkled glass so crumpled.
The magic laces tangled the world indeed.
They multiplied it in strange gleaming.
And nothing moved to save the fragile beads
as long as could. But time is fleeting.
by Thea Ariss
13.04.2025
The world inside
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125041304146
Свидетельство о публикации №125041304146
Рецензии