In those wintery evenings,
when the air takes colour and sings,
before me stands a trembling wall,
I dare not touch at all-
so delicate and frail,
it draws a silver veil
over the land-
I melt into those questions flowing,
uncertain curiosity growing-
a curtain falling into me,
into a wonderland - if I let it be.

Sydney Krivenko 2009
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