A DAY, A LONG AGO DREAMT DAY…

The city's grayness

sometimes is just an inconvenient dream

in the eyes of the ravens

flipping wings like butterflies

pouring in white attires sprung from waterfall’s foam

turning them back into clouds to see the childhood again

with eyes that read the wrinkles in the face of the elderly poet.

Sense is embedded in the chimeras resembling exhaust fumes

we discover whenever we look deeper

and when our lips flourish in a smile

snatching for tea in the wind

simmered by the smell of distant linden.

We reveal shades and truths in yellowed headlines

the pain is spread across the streets of our city

broken by an earthquake

caused by gray and yellow cars racing with the sunset.

One day, a long ago dreamt day…

one unforgettable hour

the sky will get down to touch straight-line glances

in the city park there will be a rain

of scattered points with fresh scent from the leaves

that we live in the middle of the blinking autumn.