Weak Poem by Pavel Dimov
Weak
Last nights I had a dream..., one and the same...
Green leaves falling in the early spring.
Birds flying far away from me.
Plague as far as eyes can see.
Darkness took me under chilly wing.
No light. No voice. I could not speak.
Awaken. Strayed in dreams.
Nothing. Nothing ever gleams.
And I am weak...
It is now dusk.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: birds
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8/28/2026 3:45:22 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
