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Evening: Phloxes: Absence

to the memory of G. Rusetskaya

but at times
in emptiness wafts in
(to veranda
to memory)
that whiteness:

clear cold of absence: of her who so loved them -

(…somewhere like children's dreams -

…and she did not wake… -

were verses) -

in the daughter's heart it is constant immense and pure -

(as if you saw
a distant-whitening
suddenly looking into eyes)