I play with the sun beam by the window
He is glowing, thick, bent,
This morning I have shouted
And my heart - races.
Some hairs by my waistband
Have turned white,
But the sun beam plays with it
So charmingly,
How innocent he is, and simple,
In the evening calm,
But to me in this dun time
He's a golden celebration,
And a consolation.
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