Алиса Апрелева

Алиса Апрелева

Taming the time 
in a hotel, somewhere 
at the edge of the snow 
and the City, where too many lines 
interflow, 
where names of the streets are unfairly 
pierce to the eyes, where my every word 
intertwines 
with someone’s… 
  
So, here am I, Lord, 
floating 
upstream the night in a rocking chair, 
my hands so empty, with no seeds of 
     silver, 
look, can’t feed the dreams Thou 
     blessed me to guard, 
so, here, they are growing apart, 
my little dreams, 
look, they are flocking behind, 
my scared, my fuzzy, fun dreams, 
flocking behind, 
framed by a random decentish painting 
hanging 
from one of the walls, 
when, 
look, I am still-life-still-waiting, 
still live, still waiting I am, 
for turquoise to turn white, 
for the face in the mirror  to smile, 
for the air to silken-thin, 
letting it all begin 
  
ONCE AGAIN 
  
          2010


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