winter
i hibernate
under your eyelashes
daily breathing the petrichor
of tears
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2026
winter
i hibernate
under your eyelashes
daily breathing the petrichor
of tears
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2026
Three secrets that never were said:
The stir of the sap in the spring,
The desire of a man to a maid,
The urge of a poet to sing.
by BLISS CARMAN (WILLIAM) (1861-1929)
Public Domain Poetry
Winter weeping icicles onto spring’s dew.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022
A certain Rudolf called out:
I have eaten too much.
Whether it’s healthy is very questionable.
After such a greasy lunch
I really feel uncomfortable.
But I belch beautifully and smoke
Cigarettes now and then.
Lying on my heavy belly,
I chirp nothing but songs of spring.
Longingly, as though on a ramp
The voice squeals from the throat.
And like an old lamp
The wind blackens the bitter soul.
by ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN (1889-1914)
Public Domain Poetry