The first strong rain. White mist. The forest's dull.
Wet earth doesn't get in water from the sky.
Young greenish aspens throw dark-red long threads.
Ones velvet buds fall down with dismal strains.
The rain's pulled off the last white snow-made cloth,
in a free manner opening in earth
long broken passages of unknown beasts,
which go through paths and lose somewhere indeed.
And an old shawl from the last year dark leaves
is spoiled with holes, but there's no one to guilt.
The forest life is hidden from rude man.
It is amazing to catch once its trace.
by Thea Ariss
03.04.2026
The first strong rain
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126040307841
Свидетельство о публикации №126040307841
Рецензии