By Andrey Gritsman
We are standing with a group of strangers
at predawn hour by the unpaved road, waiting
for our ride. Three hours to the station.
The lake is still asleep—splash of the paddle:
Lonely fisherman adds his brushstroke
to the night’s lunar landscape.
I am eight, holding hands
with my grandparents and the flock of wild ducks
above us is streaming away, like our destinies,
into a bottomless well of the full moon.
Andrey Gritsman is a poet, essayist, and writer of short stories from Russia, and writes in English and in Russian. His works have appeared in many American, European, and Russian magazines and anthologies. He runs Intercultural Poetry Series in Manhattan and edits the poetry magazine INTERPOEZIA. He lives in New York City and works as a physician.
