The chilly air tastes a little bitter,
spiced by the silver light of crescent moon
and blinking stars continually titter
this endless night in June.
Category: Poetry
-
For Yana
Have a sip of home brew.
Tell me all about you:
what you feel and what you think,
would you like another drink?
Give a cheer, shed a tear
– we survived another year.
Tell me of your loves and hates,
what is past and what awaits.
Dream in light of winter moon
shining into this cocoon.
We can hide from wind and storm
here – cosy, snug and warm. -
Time
Time flows through me like water through a sponge.
It oozes away, leaving a murky sediment
of half-forgotten feelings
and half-imagined events.
And endless waiting.
Sometimes it seems that I have been waiting ever since I was born.
Waiting
for something to happen
and for everything to change.
How?
If I knew, the wait would be over. -
Through The Trees
I was so happy that evening,
but it passed by and left nothing.
In the mornings
I cannot remember my dreams. -
Night Light
Tell me a kind fairy tale:
I will listen with open-mouthed absorbtion;
I will look at you with shining eyes;
I will laugh and cry in all the right places –
I will be the best listener in the world.
Tell me a kind fairy tale, please! -
Morning
The endless depth of the waking sky
flattens when branches traverse it in black.
You can switch from the boundless depth
to delineated elegance
and back.
From beauty to beauty.
The morning world is open
and you can enter it.
And you can go out
and give presents to others
and receive gifts
and be happy. -
Urban tree
Calligraphy of naked branches
against the urban avalanches
is crisp and clear, like the voices
of morning birds. There are no choices.
Breathe in the cold that stops your breath,
that fills your lungs – your shibboleth
and drown, happy, in the verse
of crystal clear universe.
