A Lake
A beautiful lake --
an unfinished plate of soup
made from the sky and finely cut
pickled cucumbers of the reflected trees.
And a small neat castle – a trinket with the clinking keys of birds –
squeezes the space with the hairy fingers of the meadows.
Surely, a small ogre lives there.
He has combed hair and is polite
like a museum curator.
A Hailstorm
A hailstorm started in the afternoon:
the tooth fairy threw around handfuls of milk teeth
of all the children in the world,
and a stray dog found a shelter under a truck,
and looked out from under it, slyly,
like a fox out of a hole.
Dmitry Blizniuk is a poet from Ukraine. His most recent poems have appeared in Rattle, The Nation, Prairie Schooner, Plume, The London Magazine, Guernica, Denver Quarterly, Pleiades and many others. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is also the author of The Red Fоrest (Fowlpox Press, 2018). His poems have been awarded RHINO 2022 Translation Prize. He lives in Kharkov, Ukraine. Dmitry Blizniuk in the Poets & Writers Directory. http://www.pw.org/directory/writers/dmitry_blizniuk
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