'Springtime' By Anna Polibina-Polansky Poem by Anna Polibina-Polansky

By Anna Polibina-Polansky. Springtime *** Another spring season is on. No matter how many humans are counted away. Quibbles by Beckett are about, but common sense reigns. I watch unfamiliar faces outside, but old ties appear and rule your Universe. Verbal motives are implorable. Meters are impeccable. Stanzas gently, mildly occur. What is yet on, out of prior plots? Warmness trades dandelions and first camomiles. Tulips disappear in haze of early May. Emotions are rippened and still, forgotten. The juicy grass keeps me bewaring new subjects. Fresh lines of events aren't too welcomed. The wintry strokes fade, the seashore appeals to most secret sensations. Planes, trains, grains of new emotions or, rather, impressions. I prefer new locations, but reminding the survived ones. I am a hidden mariner within my own ego. I am demanded where I don't prefer to be. It is this way all along. Reposing, oblivion and memories are the best. I share my recollections with few of folks, as the alternating reality is habitual here. Changes come up each day, and they are substantial, numerous, multiplying. Details are even more astonishing, frightening, appearing in intricate hipes. Sharp remembrances rule the world; only faces gradually come out of their contours, thaw away in imperious haze. Haughty riddles, arrogant labirynths. My emotions are peers for the springtime. They pretend to be kids. It's high time I had kids.
2022.