Monday, July 28, 2008

Abraham Terian: Nightfall on Ararat

Last night I watched the horizon melt;
there were cracks in the sky.
I heard the flare of colors,
the end of “Sabre Dance”.

Today I feel the embers of yesterday.
Just now faded the last of notes
from the melted strings
on the ashes of violins.


This poem has appeared in VOICES literary magazine.

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