Unnumbered Opus

 

Behind every silver lining

There is the specter of a dark cloud

 

Above every quiet chimney

The memory of hickory trees

Swirls in smoke

 

And in the eyes of a wounded dog

Remains the promise of warm fields

Where he chased rabbits and quail

While wolves watched his tail wag high

 

Upon every long strain cotton pillow

The last night sleeps until the next moon

Embracing a promise whispered to a name

Five syllables long, a letter at a time

To make the promise last

 

Behind every silver lining 

There is the specter of a lingering cloud

 

August 24, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022

Photo taken with a Russian Salyut 120mm camera.