Siberia sounds
good and cold
on a day when
eggs I’m told
bake on the sidewalk.

Irkutsk beckons
from afar
on a day when
cars and tar
resemble ovens.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s