The sun went down. The youths stood wet
on opposite oblique stone bank.
They said goodbye to the huge friend
and waged slow hands before it sails.
The curling waves had hidden the beast.
The night had vanished the short meet.
The oldish lodge was waiting guests
to clear snow from brown wood door.
Tired Nils and Bee observed the shack.
They'd found twigs on dusty floor.
The guy had taken the black flint,
put twigs in fireplace and lit.
The long awaited fire warmth
had spread inside the only room.
It quickly hugged the frozen youths.
And everywhere were dancing looms*.
Tired Nils and Bee changed wet cold clothes
to dry old covers. Sleep got both...
by Thea Ariss
26.09.2025
*looms - тени
In the lodge. The tale of the winter forest
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125092607645
Свидетельство о публикации №125092607645
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