Monday, June 8, 2015

We All Somehow Return




Far away mist
In the froth of its own mixing
Reminds me to return

To a northern sea
And wooden boats in red and yellow
Near a board walk
That ends at sunset

Shadows were never dark at midnight
In cities where women fear
That we all may return one day
To a name and a street café

... Far away mist
Exhaled a tender illusion
And reminded me to remain

Where wooden boats in red and yellow
Dream of northern seas

June 8, 2015

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2015

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