Chilly Spring.
the geese are brawling flying in
the end of winter -- snow is weak
the icicles show wicked grin
my dreams are sinister and bleak
i see the house -- lines are foggy
but smells are making me at peace
with being desolate and groggy
awakened by the brawling geese
i see the city -- it appears
a bit familiar to me
as if i watch it through the tears
shed by this morning's raining spree
the geese are brawling driving out
the dream to which i try to cling
i sigh and leave my silver cloud
of memories this chilly spring
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all rights reserved © Natalia L. Rudychev
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American Open Mike: The New American Voice, Volume 2, ChicagoPoetry.com Press, 2006,52