In the meadow the lark will soon
Nest
Twig by twig, song by song
Yet its flutelike call for spring
Will catch no dream on unmoon nights
Let
your steps free
But
leave no footprints
In
the desert at high noon
Touch
old wounds
But
leave no scars
Yet leave by trails
Unmarked and worn
From where I often watched
People, sunsets, oceans and silent deserts
Become one, as the trails turned around
To
let my steps free
And
erase all footprints
Upon
the sand and ocean waves
Or
high desert trails at noon
For
I knew how to touch old wounds
And
leave no scars
April 7, 2016
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2016
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