***

Dedicated to N.M.

‘The weather is always itself’
That's what you stated on parting
What could be better to say -
The cloudburst has just started.

Well, I had to be discreet
Cause that weatherman was a cheater
So, I flew here to meet
The Epiphany frosts in Peter.

I’m hearing these words from the rain,
I’m thinking the sense, which is into.
You've got no part, you're far away,
You are in another winter.

You are in another place,
The other gray sky is looming,
The river’s smooth mirror face
Is watching the dropped circles blooming

The other's the lacy bridge,
The soaked embankments' lanterns,
The car, like the hectic midge
Is flying to do other matters.

You don't fly to do anything,
You don’t want to think of the present.
The glass of the red shimmer drink
Makes sorrows sweet and pleasant…

… It passed like the fleeting dreams.
The end of the lonely Sunday,
January, nineteenth,
The Epiphany rains in London.