Saturday, February 7, 2015

A Poem by Inna Dulchevsky

Her Autumn

Once she becomes the prisoner
Of her captivating thoughts
     She may be longing for
An abundance of beauty

Soft flying bundle of feathered fibers
     Its muted dance in frigid air
     Its weightless landing

Burned by autumn leaf of vine tree
With clusters of dark purple grapes

     Shine of round pebbles in a puddle
     When water cleans left rays of the day

Refreshing wind
That wrestles hair against its known order
     And gently outlines her lips

Drops of milk fall from the cup
     Do not escape the cat's eyes
     That runs with tail up to lick the ground

A dark green moss warms up
Corners of a wooden house
     Wild rose hips light up walls

With silver spider web     without spider

That captures flies and tortures them
     As she gets tortured by her own thoughts

Inna Dulchevsky spent her early school years in Belarus.  She currently resides in Brooklyn, New York.  She was awarded First Prize in the 2014 David B. Silver Poetry Competition.  Her poems have appeared in both journals and books including Pyrokinection, Jellyfish Whispers, Lavender, and Antheon.  Inna's literary influences include Pushkin, Lermontov, Yesenin, Akhmatova, Tsvetaeva, Block, Bunin, Turgenev, Chekhov, Gogol, Tolstoy, Bulgakov, Nabokov, and Dostoevsky.  Her interests include metaphysics, philosophy, literature and practice in meditation and yoga.  Inna's musical education in violin and classical singing, as well as her discovery of Vermeer's light and expansion of consciousness through the connection with inner-self and Nature, are essential in the writing of her poetry.

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