Blue Mountain Arts
Blue Mountain Arts
Blue Mountain Arts

Poetry Contest Winners :: Twenty-second Contest :: First Place Winner


by Yulia Yulina
The sun is crying through the window,
And birches, surprisingly shy,
Their silvery leaves dance a waltz on the wind.

I take a thread and begin stringing stones,
Gems of my memories.
They are hot in my hands.
It hurts to hold them, but still — I am not giving up.

I want to make a necklace
A necklace for you,
my daughter

I take a pearl with iridescent waves —
It's your favorite stone, beautifully noble.
You love the sea and the waves, and the silence…
You are beautiful too…

I string a jasper,
earthy and real, always different,
Almost like motherhood.

Next comes an amber,
Red and ringing as our hair,
Yours and mine.

Then a ruby,
Decent and celebratory
I never knew what to wear it with.
Maybe you'll find out and teach me
One day.

Here is an emerald:
Remember how we loved
Summer runs on the grass,
Picking mushrooms in the forest,
and jumping in the lake from the dock?

An agate,
With it everything is possible.
Your shy smile through the window on the train
as we go to see the white nights in St. Petersburg

Then, a moonstone, just like you
Incomprehensible, mysterious, with inner light it shines.
You are fifteen and you cry on your birthday
We don't know why

And sapphire,
Deep blue sky reflecting,
The swings on the playground, your leaping laughter
The wind tousling your hair
then perfectly blond.

I finally gathered a necklace for you.
Touching the stones, they fit,
And they talk… and they live.

I am proud, and happy, and sad
And I hand you this gift.
For you have on the road.

You take it, examine it, think for a minute,
Then return it to me.
"It is so heavy"
“It will be hard to carry.”

I take back the weighty necklace.
Yes, it is heavy and hot.
I go to your room.

The window is open; the curtains flutter in the wind.
There is your diary unfinished
On the bed —
You were in a hurry
In a hurry to leave…

On the wall there are photos:
You, your friends and your prom,
A beach with pearly white sand,
All your childhood with me,
But I am not in the pictures.

I put your necklace on the bed.
Let it lie, waiting for you to come back,
When you're stronger,
And ready pick it up and take it with you.
On the road
One day.

About the Author
Yulia is a native Russian, born in the Soviet Union. Since early childhood she has written poems and short stories as a hobby. She was published in Russian women's and travel magazines. In 2010 Yulia was a long-listed candidate in the International Festival of Russian-speaking writers 'Literary Vienna' for a memoir about her grandmother. She worked for the US Peace Corps, the United Nations, and the Global Fund. She recently moved to Atlanta with her American husband and two kids. She joined the Atlanta Writers Club and has just started a blog
Second Place Winner
Blue Mountain Arts