You do not need to be
An open wound
To be
A wound
You do not to be
An undealt card
To excel
At the game
You do not need
To hear the Orinoco flow
To celebrate
The promise
Of every rain drop
And you do not
Have to go
To Torino
To claim
“Me ne frego”
But you need
To return
In a new form
And surprise
Yourself
November 19, 2021
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021
Cities of stone, faces unshaved
And doubtful
Lemonade with rose water
And uncertain tomorrows
Cities of steel, frigid autumns
And cold coffee
Brown eyes deeper than night
And forgotten promises
Cities dust, of desert sun
And lonesome walks
Burning vast skies
And wolves at dawn
Cities where my compass
And its South
Pointed only inward
And let me find
What I had never lost
In cities of stone, steel and dust
The promise
To find
My own
Way
November 14, 2021
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021
And the piper got paid
While the show was
Still
On
It was an empty box
Tied with corn speedwell
Flowered in blue
And dry
And the piper
Kept that box
Next to a bed
Of orchids
In a place
Where winter weeds
Knew
Spring would come
Again
And the show
Will go on
November 7, 2021
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021
