The Memory Poem by Dagmara Anna AuraDagimar

on panes are drops
I am smearing with finger
warm rain
greyness of the garden
and the wooden bridge
as long as the day
what is trudging stubbornly
when there is a bad weather

the river is accepting
rainy splashes
flares
on the nearby lake
and I with one's ear
I am still today
catching words
inexpressible

I recall the coast.
rippled water,
dusk on the beach,
golden sand,
altogether us in the summer,
hot August,
coming September
and you ...