The jar will break
When the river freezes over
When accidental loving
Wakes up to the long winter
Alone
In a town with no streets
No compass and windy nights
The jar will break
And its insides will sound hollow
We will read poems
And we will hope for that sunrise
When all poems had a meaning
And all meaning was shared and loved
Alone
In a house next to a street
Outside a town
Where the river froze
Even in the August sun
… And we will pick up the pieces
Of broken jars we left broken
In the streets of lonesome towns
Where accidental love
Lost its compass
September 27, 2018
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2018
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