Falling-three hundred seconds to the end,
Below, the colored Windows laugh.
Child of the sky, gray pollen,
Falling in the body of a baby snowflake.
The city is blackened with roof cloths,
The wind of the antenna shakes carelessly.
Inhale, long exhale, pause and rush,
We'll be warm clothes for the city.
Let's go knocking on the window,
Ride on the roof of the tram quietly,
Let us whisper – how wonderful the world is!
And die in the palm of a child's hand.
I fall-two hundred seconds to the end.
Time to love and spin carelessly.
Just bet, admire, twinkle,
It will take us forever to fall.
Fall
© Copyright: Юрий Андреевич Дорофеев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010208943
Свидетельство о публикации №120010208943
Рецензии