Ivanna Baranova

I like the way the house looks
before the mountains
newly dusted


stripped down to gradient , falling
now the sun sets
my walk half-speed


cuing the day’s last sound
under black sky waving
readily orchestral
adoring the lullaby of dark


crayon angels urge quiet excitement but
even the trees beg the birds for sound


consecutively drifting
I remember illusions , their etymology
no words now only grace


when fault reveals a perfect answer
minimum immorality
the star of indifference receding
sharing a single inconclusive dream


soon the route of love is sleeping
wake crying , it seems true :
I will always believe life’s
devastated appeal


certainty , muted again by necessity


behind me there is too much to take
which is why , now I must steal

Ivanna Baranova is a poet living in Los Angeles. She is the Creative Communications Coordinator at The Poetry Project and author of Continuum (2023) and Confirmation Bias (2019), both available from Metatron Press.