"Russian Dawn" (New poem, 2021/12/23)

eyes and scrubs
he is different
one from the street
like a little tide close
covering itself like wool with its stars
and golden halls
climbing world
cry out at his beginning
their bleeding hands make them white through the entire but uneven street
I like young, developed
there is a square, its turn of humility
all closed to the light

endless traffic lived like factories
melting luminous rollers for home
church in Yiddish

but to beads, roads,
and for the above
Sarah loosens her jewels
approaching from the left, they hear the tam-dams
all fired I left the summons in all the light
igniting
most stutter wisely like iron ritual

solid floor
baby's collar stiff
like engraved in velvet play
hair mixed up like that
bleak street
like mister musing and ending with a scream

sacrilege or closure
rotated feeds have shrunk
that there aren't many on the facades
she should be cheeky when pushing through
and she will have other things and plates

more feet and a word than skin
Sarah is growing
attitude
bend the package to the lights
the night will go out
English ... red tension

the vortex swirls
its over his people
clearly at the very Russian dawn
how fearless
but it is greeted by light