The room

Елена Гребенникова
Tucked-in blanket and a closed door,
Seems I won’t see any light no more.
Thoughts are glazing, sitting by myself,
Spider’s crawling up the wooden shelf.

Tiny sparkles as the sun comes by,
Through the curtains I can see the sky.
Spider’s falling from the wooden shelf,
I dropped him lest I should drop myself.

04.2013