My Moscow is a city made of the sound,
that spins wheels of trams and buses around,
lots of cars glide past along busy streets,
metro tunnels pulse with crowded heats.
Rain taps out rhymes on shiny eaves,
fading parks collogue by whisper of leaves,
naked branches murmur secrets in air,
ripe autumn gossiping stories in nowhere.
Yet louder city’s sound than daily beats,
rustling trees or footsteps in bright busy streets,
is Moscow’s voice, a new broadcast appears —
as ringing alert echoes through all my passed years.
Moscow s voice
© Copyright: Коля Баг, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126101703722
Свидетельство о публикации №126101703722
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