A summer leaf used to soak light
But never shed it. Only shades
It shared with us. Thus lost its might.
Its mortal form was glass-like chains.
An autumn leaf did outpour
The stolen light mixed with its blood.
‘Whose face gives no light’ the leaf spoke
‘Shall not become a star’ then frowned.
A vernal leaf gave me relief
A turf beneath my molden stone
Is blooming as if it’s convinced
That lucid life it wants to spawn.
A vernal leaf
© Copyright: Андрей Паштадский, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122100806433
Свидетельство о публикации №122100806433
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