One day she became the wind,
For to breeze everywhere without wings -
She flew into chimneys and vents
And sang for babies in their beds.
Next time she was gentle rain,
She could cry to all souls insane.
But the clouds parted, and the sun came out -
Rain ended, there’s nothing cry about.
And once she flew as the moth^
For flowers she was giving her love.
Alas, moth’s life is short in May,
And she was already dead to next day.
Later she lived as black cat –
No grief and nothing to regret.
And she walked only by herself,
At the end her nine lifes didn’t help.
At last she was the lizard and
Had hig between stones, grass and sand,
Discarded her sorrows like her tail
And gone along the foggy trail.
And once
© Copyright: Анастасия Агуреева, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122111003431
Свидетельство о публикации №122111003431
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