RUSSIA DREAM

I would like to go to Russia
To see the place
I have dreamed about.

To see the places
That have lived
The splendor and the horror
Of their bloody history.

I want to feel
The depths of winter
And learn how to survive
Such bitter cold.

I look in a book to see
What I would see
To imagine under foot and hand
Cobblestones and gold.

To breathe in the smell
Of old galleries
Faces and places of the past
That beguile and hypnotize.

To read their books,
Of words old and sad with time
But still enthralling
To the mind of man.

It is but just a dream
I doubt I will ever see
The Russia of my reverie.

 

Dawn McDonald
© September 2003