Viktor Sosnora. (№ 302696)

Above the Poconos the evening bells,
the moving water blocks
the bottomless glow of the waves,
space glare fish.
Don't need the South foreign powers,
when on the branches in the form of numbers
as the tears of light shaking
slightly feathered Chicks
When the Ladoga rays
diverse as Siberia,
when the Home sounds
evening bells of my fate.