January
At the dawn of January.
It's weighing on my head.
It frightens me.
And not to be crushed,
And to save myself,
I sit under the Christmas tree decorated
With an empty plate almost.
And tangerine peels
Protective laying out circle,
I purr with pleasure
And waiting for the arrival of friends.
02.01.2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010300974