~
You are
the river that runs
beneath this city.
You lend
the beautiful but empty
buildings a beating heart.
And the buildings were essential.
They were a part
of the lives unfolding
in their shadows.
Sometimes it
almost seems like
they are listening.
I'm sinking inside them.
Tell me a story
about an outgoing road,
the house where you grew up
near the Sea of Azov.
I think
I flew there once.
The birds
that perch inside my chest
sing loud, sing soft.
Maybe they
will sing again for us
tomorrow.
~
