Poetry

~ TYUMEN ~


Sunrise, low clouds, pink reflections
Dark street below, icy potholes
Babushka sweeping with birch broom
Russian pop from distant radio

Do clouds reflect those many hopes
West Siberia forever holds?
Factory, kolkhoz, dirt road: empty
Skeletons of old ways and new

Yet wooden house and soaring church
Child's furtive smile and rosy cheeks
Eternal woods and distant plains
No winter wind can blow away


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