a black raven, darker than the night,
a messenger from the past,
ravages the segments of the day
into a cloud of dust…
I immerse my hands into the substance,
of the past. I search
for a string, a stone,
a corner of the map…
a clue, a direction…
while the colors are fading in the rain,
while the falling star is blown by the wind,
before it touches the ground,
before I can make a wish…
© 2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya
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