Singer-shell
I'm going to school --
and, pressed to the ear,
the singer sings to me --
seashell.
The shell sings to me
about the sea, about summer.
Cold winter does not confuse
signs:
not this one,
glass steel,
puddle,
no steam from his mouth,
denoting,
icy cold,
neither the old,
in a hat and a fur coat --
old lady...
sings,
it doesn't stop,
the shell singer.
Angry waves hurl
longboat.
Under the roar of the surf
I'm swimming in
I
into the class..
Singer-shell
© Copyright: Инна Максимовна Логинова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010303625
Свидетельство о публикации №120010303625
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