A crust of flattened snow
It went down with a crunch under my foot –
Imagery of Noah's ark
Now there is no cottage from any.
It's hard to believe the calendar,
They tell me about autumn,
And in the garden-November in full
On the second day of January.
One can only hope, however,
That spring has not been canceled,
And February will want to cry
With a drop of Pasternak ink.
2.01.2020