It's so sweet at home to cling
To the brightest, deepest thoughts,
Sense abstracted joys life brought
When you've got some food and drink.
May the folks below tread somewhere
In a hurry, lots of them:
Faceless weekdays, once again.
Folks swarm fast from dawn till sunset.
How I lurve to view this grandness
From my window, glance below.
Corner boots wait till I go.
I'll obey my lot with gladness.
Overtopping for a moment,
I abandon fuss and crowds:
Hours and days to plan my routes,
I reap heaps from this postponement.
I may be too weak or grumpy,
Need relaxing, whacked by swerves.
I'll atone misdeeds to nerves:
Roads I walked on, wild and bumpy.
May I pause and seize the day,
Spend grand time within four walls?
Here, my childhood I'll recall,
Being a needle in the hay.
Then I'll tread steep rocks with speed,
Leave my yard, won't ask for permits,
Not a monk and not a hermit,
Just a tired man on the street.
© Dmitriy Belyanin, 2022
This entry was posted by Dmitry Belyanin on сентября 9, 2024 at 11:28 under poetry. Tagged poem, poetry, relaxation, solitude.
