In the wardrobe, beneath the table's rim,
Round the corner, by the nearest tree,
Between the curtain and the tulle grown dim,
Wedged by the door with all of me.
In father's jacket, oversized,
Among the dust of making art,
Beside a frame, almost devised,
Still smelling fresh, not quite apart.
Head tucked deep in lifted shoulders,
Blended with the floor's dull tone,
Holding breath as silence smolders,
A giant chameleon, all alone.
Through the fence-gap - wait, my head
Will pass, it seems, with cheek and cheer;
If that can enter, bright and led,
The rest of me can follow here.
To vanish instantly, entire,
Eyes shut tight in hide-and-seek;
Dissolve onstage into the fire -
A sunbeam's property, bright and brief.
Up to ten
© Copyright: Дмитрий Левский, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126051304350
Свидетельство о публикации №126051304350
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