The spring's capricious. Too cold days change with hot ones.
Annoying wind is its companion. Earth's tired
of the sharp wages, not giving any chance to find
desired calmness on the edge of summer coming.
The wind is tearing the last trees' flowers off.
It's blowing out bright magnetic flame of peach shrubs
and pink silk petals cover like a rug dry earth.
The wind is whirling, lifting grains of the grit up.
The narrow streets of an old town are fully vain.
Everything's hot and breathing with the heated air.
The dusty earth is strongly waiting for the rain,
while the spring day is fading in the sun's aperol.
by Thea Ariss
31.05.2025
On the edge of summer coming
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125053107224
Свидетельство о публикации №125053107224
Рецензии