Snowy Mail. Selected Poems

Poems are my first and, perhaps, only love. Among my readers there is a very small group who likes my poems more than my prose. Their units. But it is they - my favorite readers. Because I am convinced that the most important and best I said precisely in the verses that I wrote from 22 to 35-37 years old, as befits a poet.
Once and somewhere I read that writing poetry after 35 years is indecent. This, of course, is wrong. And many great examples such as Tyutchev easily refute this.
I quit me to write in my decision - they left themselves without saying goodbye. Simply - left. The tree is growing, some branches disappear from it. This is natural if it is alive. Prose kills poetry. At some point, I felt that it was not poetic imagery, but an accurate presentation of my thoughts. But does this cross out poetry?
Prose stories that I liked to invent, turned out to be more effective than poems. More effective for readers. But not for me.
Poems of different years are placed here so that you can at least slightly understand the path of the poet at the turn of the 60-70s, which wrote exclusively on the table, without the Internet, without readers, simply because he could not write it