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There is something undeniably gorgeous
about sea looking like liquid snow.
Today, I felt I was seeing the sea
as though
the sea was just born.
The water was preening itself
under thick white robe –
in all its wintry glory.
I imagined a troika
Along La Mer du Nord.
I pictured the sea foam frozen
and cut into ice blocks.
The sea is crisp and crunches
when I walk over it.
The foamflakes are huge and soft
underfoot.
The power that Siberia and the sea
have held over me
ever since I noticed them
as a child
sounds like a Bach’s recital
from a nearby church.
The Chinese called Siberian lake Baikal
the “North Sea” in ancient times.
Buryats believed Baikal had consciousness
and worshipped it.
Somebody cooks ‘blini’ now,
with wild-berry jam,
I can cut their smell…