The year is approaching the end
and I felt how
the words fled in the darkness.
Some of them wrapped
clothed velvet ancestor
in the middle of softness
melting snow snowpack.
Hermit inside me tried
low-rebel
against loneliness.
I was, living breathed,
pain in the back waiting for the circuit
a moment of time deer turning circle.
I still sometimes memory
her son smiling
merry as a weather vane.
The joy of turning the circuit was hiding
somewhere, and seeking solace
with soothing words
I fought against darkness.
Now the time Pessi, and Illusia
Rainbow is a great miracle
could be something to treasure
like here the polar night
the center could bring.
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