Anahid M. Ugurlayan-Hadjian: A Look Back
Rooftops crowded together,
as if trying to squeeze into a box.
as if trying to squeeze into a box.
And my search begins.
My map: an old photograph.
My map: an old photograph.
Which is the rooftop of my grandfather’s home?
Was it near the river flowing through the picture?
Was it near the river flowing through the picture?
Or the mosque?
But which one?
But which one?
Grandpa said it was near the Armenian church.
But I can’t find it.
But I can’t find it.
Even if I could,
it’s no longer there.
it’s no longer there.
Too many questions without answers.
My mind drifts off as I try to imagine my grandfather’s life:
My mind drifts off as I try to imagine my grandfather’s life:
Where he went to school, the roads he traveled with his parents,
The smell of the melons, bamya and cigars.
The smell of the melons, bamya and cigars.
The raucous laughter —
signs of life before the darkness erased it all.
signs of life before the darkness erased it all.
This poem has appeared in ARARAT, the online literary magazine.
