they were the smoke

Sviatoslav Zhabotynskyi

they were the smoke -

the smoke

that calm down

 

peeking out

of the eternal hole

to see

if the spike of wheat is standing

 

god gathers their ripe hearts

as if from a tree

above the ground

 

an old journey awaits them

across a field of naked fireflies

 

with gunshot wounds

they will return to the house

with a premonition

that mom will quarrel

 

"You took jam again without permission!

look, you're dirty!"

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