Dmitry Blizniuk (trans. Sergey Gerasimov)


A Winter Morning

a winter morning
is like a crumpled cigarette
the tobacco is spilled out
the sidewalk is strewn
with sand the color of the yellow filter
a dog’s paw prints are left across the thin bleak dirty snow
a janitor is smoking
beside the garbage bins
like a Venetian gondolier from a Dali’s painting –
and the beauty of the morning oozes out
like thick blue blood through bandages
like radiance through the mold on a church icon
Virgin Mary in a supermarket
a blob of mercury in a puddle

translated by Sergey Gerasimov from Russian

 

Dmitry Blizniuk is an author from Ukraine. His most recent poems have appeared in Poet Lore, The Pinch, Salamander, Willow Springs, Grub Street, Magma Poetry and many others. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he is also the author of “The Red Fоrest” (Fowlpox Press, 2018). He lives in Kharkov, Ukraine.

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