Слободкина Ольга
Another walk in the park

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  • © Copyright Слободкина Ольга (olga_slobodkina@mail.ru)
  • Размещен: 30/11/2020, изменен: 18/03/2021. 3k. Статистика.
  • Стихотворение: Поэзия
  • Иллюстрации/приложения: 40 шт.

  • Palaces...
      I've photographed them many a time.
    I'm on a walk.  
        Through pandemia.
    It's only 6 o'clock,
      but very dark.
    It's just a strall
    round the park -
      no eupho-
    However, at the stadium
      they're filming.
     there is a crew, 
      some people on the track,
        a spot of light.
    But soon they let out a cloud
      (as if they're playing)
    of smoke or gas.
      And I dart off, I'm not a wack
    to stay -
       there's always something dange-
    especially in the night.
    I'm crawling down the hill,
      the earth is damp and weary
    and covered by the dead and brown leaves.
    You never know
      what you will do in just 2 minutes.
    There suddenly starts a ringing -
      the church bells.
    They toll and toll...
      My life is waning -
    And that is all...
    I know it very well.
     The sweet church bells of Russia.
    They're singing
     the song of life...
      and are performing swell.
    I can't go to the church -
      the situation's warning.
    I'm only on a walk -
     to ventilate my lungs
      to strech my legs all right.
    I do get out -
      not early in the morning,
    late in the evening
      or at night.
    I'd like to go on learning and creating
     and breathing,
          but my time is small.
    Time on the Earth is small.
    My head's vibrating.
    God never lets a good thing last too long.
    This stretch of life
      is like a season. Seeing
    the sea in summer time, some Southern bay.
        In winter - a short hiliday
      by skiing.
    I'm in the rhythm of poetry today.
    My pen refused to work,
      but I insisted.
       For sms won't do.
    They'll get me into a plight.
    I made it work. 
    Please, do, my pen, my sister.
    Oh, can I have at least this priviledge -
      to write!
    I'm sitting on a bench
      getting quite chill`ed.
    I can't go out every day, I guess.
    My camera, that I desired fix`ed
      was made out of focus and no less.
    I have to learn to cast off things unneeded -
     that irritate or hurt - like that.
    The people in the park walk their dogs on leashes -
       they come to me to sniff,
    which is not bad.
    I leave the bench and go on panting.
      It's damp and very very lay.
    The lanterns do not look romantic.
     It's good they're lit.
    Or otherwise - no way...
    I'm learning French,
      but not without an effort.
    It's difficult for me,
     but I do like one in a hundred word -
    "noire" and "leur", for instance.
    But Germanic
      I mean, the langauges,
    are my strong fort.
    In Moscow noone's keeping distance.
      Noone is really wearing a mask.
    Nobody seems to take the situation serious-
    However, things are gloomy, we're at risk.
    Despite of all life's going on. However
     in Moscow there're 7000 cases daily more or less.
       But women're getting married and give birth as ever
           and roll their baby carts in a pro-
    So on and on
     without knowing 
       what is in store for me and what the future'll bring
    I go out round the park - just strolling.
      Filming the Palaces...
    The chirch bells ring.
    Nov. 29, 2020

  • © Copyright Слободкина Ольга (olga_slobodkina@mail.ru)
  • Обновлено: 18/03/2021. 3k. Статистика.
  • Стихотворение: Поэзия

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