Very fresh breeze.
Clean. The stars in blue.
A month, you see, in a beret -
In the clouds of cobwebs,
He plays with me?
Hiding, laughing ...
And in the distance the deaf
Green grease cat,
The thicket lurks -
Wait for trouble or quarrel?
Are you playing with me?
Perhaps there will be enough debate?
Predators the habit
So you inherent ...
Wind you, il leaf,
Is the wind sailing?
©: EL Sokolova, 11.05.18
Evening Reflections