***
The stones of memories, warmed by the sun cools down.
Summer, like a shadow from a sundial,
reminds a happy times. Where is she? Did she
hide in a matchbox? Open it
and the days are like logs floating down a river,
will take you to the past, to your native shores,
and moistened matches will wait their time
and will warm the heart with red heat.
Yesterday, editor and literary critic Dmytro Drozdovsky received wonderful news about the publication of his…
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