The Snowfall

16 января 2018 — Владимир Захаров
Black world is over,
fertile mud underfoot disappeared -
stones, coins, flowers, ants...
everything’s gone,
everything was covered with a white shroud.
Winter
is very similar to death.
It only seems,
that death comes in black,
but in fact it is white,
white, like a bride.
It only seems,
that snowflakes fall from the sky,
but in fact they are
Angels of God, who descend into the abyss,
where live miserable mortals.
"Does John Smith, Esq., live here? -
Angels ask rare passers-by, -
the term of Treaty for his lifetime
soon coming to an end.
We want to notify him of this. "
© «Стихи и Проза России»
Рег.№ 0279207 от 16 января 2018 в 02:30


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