by Alan Zhukovski
laughter shines in the abyss of darkness
fingers on the keyboard
the flowers are lighting my departure
the lake below the hill and above another hill
I will burn my vanity in the pyre of autumnal leaves
covering the water
while the trees in the haze are washing their heads in the river
in its remote and shadowy corners
you can absorb the visions of the shadows
who are sleeping below the bushes
until somebody touches them
who can notice your shadows in the bags of sunlight
they are hidden between the leaves
but the wind can unlock the envelope
and return the shadows to sender
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