Do not write, everything is written,
sadly.
The new year has come,
and no easier.
Snow was falling. And steps-
a slight crunch.
In the white gloom melting
evening.
In new days without you
and with you,
It happens. Blizzards –
milestones.
Threads of life are woven-
fate,
Snow kisses the cold
forever.
In the wind among the snow
skids'-
The crunch of steps, crumbling
frost.
New year's story
no announcements,
From inscribed by the gods
lines'.
All pass the test
falls,
And prayers to God
wail...
Will be together, who waits and
And wait.
It happens.
A prophecy?"I know.
January 2, 2020
© Tatyana Koltasheva, sat. 5.
Photo: metal
sculpture on the embankment of Tobol,
the city of Kurgan.