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.