Tern

Parallel
to my head in the clouds
they come

Circle, dive, thrash around
on wings white as snow;

their bodies 
splash against the sapphire sky
like birches along the tracks
in front of a deep evergreen forest
somewhere near Тасино.

Devoid of inhibition
or dept to manners
they cascade
shout
tumble
glide
dance

as I watch
and weep with jealousy.