And that road
Carried
The dust simple words
Left behind
Under the August rain
When I left
For new roads
Yet
What I kept in me
Are secret meadows
Stony walls
And a few tears
To where
No roads
Were made to lead
And in the shade
Of a pine tree
Next to the bluest sea
I learned that the carry
No matter how kind
No matter how warm
Always ends in simple words
About learning to breath
Alone
In the dust others left
Before us
Under the August
Rain
And then
To find that empty chair
And table
For
One
March 13, 2026
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026
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