Lavender Fingers

And so she grows
Like roses from my eyes

Youth she knows
 Her smile does not beguile

Such slender curves
      Only rivers crevice
Yet she flows as calm as night

In her eyes
No debts reserve
 They are fearless as clear skies

Yet what took me still
Was not torso nor eyes
But lavender fingers
That from pale fields grew
And in them, lived a poet;
An old friend I knew.

 

 

Copyright Vladimir Fanshil © 2017