The evening in aperol light

The evening ate a big piece of the moon.
It drew gray lines on a wide concrete bridge,
doubling thin bars. A gleaming river pool
caught yellow balls of park's flashlights in grids.

They looked so magical on the dark face
of the brown water. The reflections flew
and trembled, performing a hypnotic dance.
The evening air was completely mute.

And this strange silence gently stunned.
The evening faded in aperol light
of the enormous and cooled down dim sun,
filtrated rays through alders' thickened types.

                by Thea Ariss
                22.05.2025


Рецензии