September, First:
Warm days are lost.
No place for host
Of summer ghost.
The door is shut,
Just bend the knee
And heed last sermon
Of the bee.
Don't fall in love
With pain of Fall.
June's shining Dove's
Not gone at all.
We paid the cost,
Stay on the post.
Read Pushkin first,
Then — Robert Frost.
Though dreams are tossed,
I need new myths
To reimpose
Good old beliefs.
Олег Аршинов – 01.09.26