It's warm. No snow. But it’s swept,
And everything, which disconnects
With anything, rushes into flight
The groundhog prophecy. But why
Each year are we waiting it?
And only Skies – calm, impassive –
Give mocking smile to us as response.
Or maybe it is just their regards?
Would he see shadow today?
It’s doubtful. But I want to stay
In round day like Connors Phil
Let lucky! Any way I still
Have hope of my jejune Fortune
That this day will be not a bottom.
Groundhog day
© Copyright: Ab.Aliverdiev, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119020210750
Свидетельство о публикации №119020210750
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