Cold winter is a magic time
when Someone thins the heaven verge
to show odd things to human kind.
They break into cute sleepy lodges
through window chinks with strong wind wages
of a big sparkling blizzard tail.
White blizzards lull whole earth with songs,
which they bring from quite distant lands,
where forests touch with branches smooth cloth
of overhanging clouds' gaggles.
Branches pierce soft sides and snow then falls
like weightless feathers of white birds.
The moon alights them with gold shine.
Snow flakes lie down on frozen trees.
White cover's getting once too hard
to stay on branches. It breaks with wheeze.
Snow falls below and writes in runs
long tales bugged from trees secret whoops.
by Thea Ariss
25.06.2025/26.06.2025
Preamble. The tale of the winter forest
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125062606935
Свидетельство о публикации №125062606935
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