a'jugustovsky Monday, the wind outside the window is dusting. float past money filibusters ships. whether Monday, greedy? Is it windy? filibustered armada swim at random contrary to any signs, the will

Robinson left without waiting for Friday, in a rain-washed Thursday evening. The train was unhurried, like cuttlefish, on tracks without rails moved at random. A coupe is a reserved seat - an inhabited

The lake water is shining. Well, hello, Our Lordship. Come on, embrace you, I opened my hands. I'm on my own tracks a path from summer to summer, I bring you my love, verses and silence. And you are warm

Sunday is windy and hot day. mature leaves of quiet whispers seemed to me a new arch into the sky of the stretched bridges. who built it: leaves / wind? or inspiration flight? whispers, of course, will

behind the lake is a forest, and beyond the forest there is a space, in which - other forests and lakes. and a cloud in the sky appeared before the eye already empty Calvary cross. but the place of the

The clouds appeared and disappeared. The sky is blue again and transparent. The sky is made honorable by the Creator, and the store of his love is not wasted. Is it because the day of Elijah is quiet and

he led me in circles, silent, modest guide, only grumbled: "debts are debts, but once I got up on the wrong foot, do not count the circles, what's the use? better - pick up your leg. " metronome

the sun mercilessly affectionately paints body tan. Is it important: carefully / hastily? most importantly - the paint has fallen down Deeper than the layer of the epidermis, so that the coming winter

Arkady A Eidman on the lake - a slight ripple. so tails of sun-hares paint the path until tomorrow, where in the red leaves of September I will be able to see again slightly distracted look diamond ripples

I heard grass whisper to each other recognition of love in one's own language. I saw how, in every dewdrop crystal a fire was born, that in every flower leave your mark, purple, blue, orange, red and sunny

As if they did not leave from the glorious Belozersky waters. But will you hide in the misty distance between meetings lived for a whole year? You can not hide it. And do not hide. A wonderful year. The

to him comes a woman in a dream, a woman comes to him like snow, and the light will say, and flare up at the head. and there will be a garden, and a tree in a window, and hidden until now in the white

and when she again jumps into the pegs field plants and river bed, The stars go out, and from the contour map the area of hell and paradise washes away with rain, and the old man who fell asleep yesterday

go, February, on the way out of the winter in the last speechless and indefinite. we talked with you, we on fish, ice and soroch. go, do not dream, go to the bottom the road always seems longer, but I

opened the abyss of stars full ... still open the window and the abyss. From the shoulders falls July constellation - spilled, passing a brittle ray, on the discarded dress on the floor. was a white day

Then, if you do not glance in the rearview mirror - either it is not visible, or the landscape is as follows: sharp "three sevens", "space", poster of the Sabrina, vidik, someone playing

While February has not yet dropped out, not flowing in streams under the escarpment, let's pour ink and drink, Hieronymus Borisych Bosch. And let the tram behind the house of life carries the workers to

By calling a doctor, by nature city, practicing alcoholic hunger, I recognize to the pain in the seventh knee your fish's voice in the jugular vein. Twins by blood, the hangman in fact, cry of your crows

We also hear, Clytemnestra, how to draw a line of fate psychedelic orchestra under the control of the pipe. I'm not at all feng shui above the illuminated stripe drops rusty scales, solidifying, Mesozoic.

My insistent sister is life leads me eleven for the jar and hears: "not enough, lend" in the hoarse performance of a tramp. There are so many specific good things in us and greatness, Almighty,