GloMag GloMagApril2020 | страница 410

Sakha,
This house I returned to
Is still full of daddy.
It's been eight years since he went.
Every cupboard, draw, I open
There are papers,
Yellowed papers with a sprinkling of
Butterfly dust of memories,
In his small handwriting,
Neat but illegible.
His complicated signature
On many, which as a child
410