They sit quietly within one another,
As though the steppe were not wide enough
For them all to stand alone.
With that hollowness inside of them,
I suppose it is natural
That they sought company in smaller versions of themselves.
They did not want companionship,
But an anchor
So the wind would not sweep them away.
They might grow tired of one another
And seperate a while, only to find themselves
Like the seeds of a silverberry tree.
It is incredibly difficult to find the name of a tree that lives around the Eurasian Steppe that has syllables that are: Stressed unstreesed unstressed (unstressed) whose seeds are spread by the wind. In the end, I settled for silverberry.
"And seperate a while,
Only to find themselves
Spreading like the seeds of a silverberry tree."
or what I used above?
I had a "Russia" phase a little while back - Russka, by Edward Rutherford, and Russian Empires, by Philip Longworth, are two books I remember enjoying.
I'm not sure if I'd ever like to visit Russia, but I love the idea of Russia.
I'm quite interested, now, in finding some Russian poetry. And reading a bit more Tolstoy.