Everyone asks for snow from Winter.
And I, a little, too.
So that when we Wake up in the morning, we,
Suddenly they were younger.
Dropped their adult style,
From the holidays pills.
And from the pantry brought
With a creak of the stool.
Climbing famously on it
No panic or pain,
Long forgotten the trash
Pulled off the mezzanine.
There's a stick, a sled, and skates —
Kid's wealth.
Ball, homemade flaps,
Remnants of hooliganism...
File, grandfather's vise —
The edges of the blades are sharp.
Though the pouts are already tight,
It's not too late for the ice.
Let the age of impetuosity be cruel.
All we need is ice and snow.
To, as in childhood, on the rink
Run after the puck...
Все просят снега у Зимы
© Copyright: Андрей Дмитриевич Кондратьев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010206181
Свидетельство о публикации №120010206181
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