Near the Graveyard of Old Promises

 

 

 

Cooler than the underside

Of an old pillow

When the first spring rain

Washes the sand

From window sills

 

Dry as apricots strung

On an old string

Lonely as the necklace

Left on the hickory floor

For the cat to play alone

 

And quiet, to hear the rain

Before it stops

To let the mid-day promise

Sound almost new

And sound already at peace

 

For old pillows remember

That spring rain wash more than sand

At noon, when the cat plays

With dried summer apricots 

Strung on an old string

 

On the hickory floor

 

January 21, 2023

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2023