1. Sparrow

    Tell me, tell me, little sparrow,
    Tell me in details
    How I lived happily ever after
    Posting my feeble photos.

     

  2. Crystals

    He rearranged the crystals
    In alphabetical order,
    And then rearranged them 
    In the specter of color.

     

  3. The Lost Railway

    In 1947-1953 near the invisible border where Polar land starts, on the distance Salekhard–Igarka people were imprisoned because of various, sometimes fantastical, reasons; they were constructing the railway, one of the most futile Stalin’s projects.

    I could not bring myself to think about the efforts that were wasted here, the tension of muscles, caught by piercing cold, about the lives of those dressed in heavy coats, bound to sleep in the eternal freeze. The names, dates of births and deaths, the causes of imprisonment kept slipping out of my consciousness like pages from a loosened grip.

     

  4. Wind

    What a wind;
    Your legs dance by themselves;
    The vain desiderata of the new stage
    Are gathered in your pocket:
    A silk kerchief, a powder box, the leather book
    With telephone numbers,
    The remnants of the future.

     

  5. The Great Mystificator

    A great mystificator
    Has lost his self-possession
    And cried: but I am not
    The great mystificator.
    But no one was left
    To believe
    In the great mystificator’s
    Lost self-possession.

     
  6. Time for selfie

     

  7. Sunlight

    The sunlight on the floor
    Of a room of your childhood play
    Is the light of my childhood.

     

  8. Room

    In the dark room filled with stopped clocks,
    He sits in the morning that resembles evening,
    With a lens in his right, working eye;
    The dust looms,
    The roof is leaking,
    Creating the figures on the ceiling;
    The building next to the store is sold,
    And no buyer appears for the last several days.
    The arms of the clocks are raised
    In a position of hands on wheel.

     

  9. Corridor

    She ran down the corridor,
    Down the arcade,
    Down the enfilade,
    Opening one room after another
    A room
    A room
    A room
    But the doors keep shutting down
    Before the guests could throw a glance.

     
  10. Evellean’s beautiful variants of the cover of my book, Contemporary Bestiary