There are just tattered patches of white snow-cloth.
Spring warmth has naked the past year darkened leaves.
A lot of thin grass stems like hard sharp swords
have pierced the lifeless plates. The dawn's grown beads
on the fresh verdure, making a nice rug
right at dark feet of a young willow tree.
Soft honey light has turn on thousand buds
on its naked branches. The morning sudden crisp
could not extinguish these unusual lights.
And the calm dawn is counting the beads
made from soft fuzz. It's swaying the branches piles
as if one caged is going to release.
by Thea Ariss
31.03.2026
Just dance! Ртуть - Vanya Dmitrienko
The last March dawn
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126033108070
Свидетельство о публикации №126033108070
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