Who are you?
A blind admirer
Of a little masterpiece;
But what is truth?
A precious binder
Or perfect freedom on a lease...
So hard to see,
But worse - to fathom
The purity of utter joy,
Is it a unity of atoms
A tad insane, a little coy?
You have no clue,
And no intention
To vivisect the world so far,
A love, a car,
Some vivid tension,
A lucid ocean
Under stars;
And silent poetry,
Uneager to state the obvious -
The dream;
The future is a foggy figure
So independent and so still...
A Blind Admirer
© Copyright: Ирина Стародубцева 3, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121061801806
Свидетельство о публикации №121061801806
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