The poppies shiver in the haze
A crimson ocean without waves
She walks between the stems alone
Her fingers brushing every stone
She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t need
Her shadow is the only seed
I follow where her silence grows
The only beauty no one knows
She is the stillness after the light
The final color draining from sight
She folds the chaos into her dress
And calls the broken to their rest
A flash, a roar, then nothing left
The sky erased, the ground bereft
She kneels where shrapnel used to sing
And pulls the quiet from the sting
Her palms are cool against the burn
She stays until the last return
The field will bloom where I now lie
Beneath her calm, unending sky
The poppies shiver in the haze
© Copyright: Валентин Владимиров, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126033001384
Свидетельство о публикации №126033001384
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