It was so cold here at the evening,
The winter Sun above the shore.
As if the city was daydreaming
About this light and slept no more.
He lit a cigarette, and, being silent
His shadow crossed the city street
"No one has chance to be resilient!",
"Just stop!", "Obey!", "Retreat!"
He looked at words on walls and posters -
At dusty, empty shells of oysters*
He raised his hand and draw a line
A sign, a letter - one by one.
"- You may invent your own heroes
Or draw these banners, write in bold,
But all the stories of the streets - there -
For you, they all remain untold".
*"...And sawdust restaurants with oyster shells..." (Thomas Stearns Eliot)
2019
A reminiscence
© Copyright: Владислав Елиферов, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120092702157
Свидетельство о публикации №120092702157
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