At dusk the awakening tells
That one is still alive
Colourful reflections project
Into the clouds of a rising day.
Stroll along crowd-filled streets
Visit the inner city’s Golden Mile.
The cold days had laid a foggy view
Across the eyes and icy winds
Make them cry
As if one’s sweetheart suddenly
Appeared
In midst of the milling crowds.
But then a great love never fades
Either from the heart or the soul
She’s more than a figure in a
Slideshow on one’s mind.
And in the small swung place
Of L’Europe the young girl who
Writes her diary says she’s Anna.
And it was her transformation
Who promised to send me
Another love. Ana.
ANA.ANA – ANNA:ANNA
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’18.