Sad is the felon's love for the scratched wall,
beautiful the exhaustion of old towels,
and the patience of dented saucepans seems mortally comic...
...I know how profound is the folding of a napkin
by a woman whose hair will go white...
...time, that makes us objects, multiplies
our natural loneliness...
...God's loneliness moves in His smallest creatures.
All of the epics are blown away with leaves,
blown with careful calculations on brown paper,
these were the only epics: the leaves...
The leaves
© Copyright: Мария Шубина-Форсайт, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126022707749
Свидетельство о публикации №126022707749
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