Poetry – Moscow April Spring 

Another Moscow April day.


Unmelted, dirty, hard, grainy, scratchy snow

Like weathered elbow skin scratching dried-up sand on salty rocks

More thoughts on when winter will end

When when when when when when


Look out the window


The yellow buildings look warm again.


The clouds dispersed

Puzzle pieces drifting apart

Like broken river ice

Sadness temporarily melts away

Making way to the flow.



It’s coming, spring.


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