Albert Kapikian: TRYSTS

          "I wait for you still,

                    as if you could arrive"

                   "You Have Not Died "
                    Vahan Derian


  1

The trees are wombs of wind and sound
that find me poised this hour
to rip out a—

I love you i am falling
from these hills searching meadows
for your–

I thought i saw you this evening
it was just dark
the mountains brief
the cool air gathering
in pools of wind
we might run

from



    2

Here we are and here
we will bury our hearts
here at last we will fail
so gently so desirably fail into one another
into the land into the sound of the land
that is the sound of our–

I want to know how to make a moon for this rain
a full wound to drench the sky with
and patch above the–

When we work ourselves into the ground
it will be like love first love we will take our hands and shoulders
and thighs into a juxtaposition that is nothing if not

fatal



    3

The street darkens no light left
to seal in its corners
and fit about its–

We have not yet found
the land that we will leave
to find

home

My hands are failing
softly down your hair
it is winter there tonight it is wind
the deep sparrows failing softly down the wind
down the brief wound of land
that makes our




    4

grave

This poem first appeared on the Literary Groong website.