The gold of my spring

Maria Bukhner’s poems are what gives birth to her heart and soul, this is what is poured out, catching on one word alone, for one phrase, promoting which Maria creates uniquely her picture of the perception of this world. And all this is on a very subtle philosophical wave. In everything: Are we punishment or are we a miracle?
It is possible that only such a formula distinguishes poetry from rhythmics. Remember the words of E. Yevtushenko: “The successful line stretches the whole poem”?
In the poetry of Mary there are echoes of Tsvetaevsky music of rhymes, the melting of Yesenin poetry. And sometimes the reader’s soul freezes from the exquisite, in a woman’s subtle rhyme.
The author’s punctuation is preserved