THE CANVAS OF MY SOUL:THE HUES OF MY PALETTE BY ANAHIT ARUSTAMYAN Poetry Available on Amazon
THE CANVAS OF MY SOUL:THE HUES OF MY PALETTE 

BY ANAHIT ARUSTAMYAN


Poetry



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arustamyananahi
arustamyananahi Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
I MISS The old woman with her long broom has disappeared.
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THE CANVAS OF MY SOUL:THE HUES OF MY PALETTE BY ANAHIT ARUSTAMYAN Poetry Available on Amazon

I MISS

The old woman with her long broom has disappeared.

She was sweeping the bronze leaves in the street.

It was November when I heard her steps and the rain drips.

It is winter now and she isn't seen.

Christmas miracles smile at a princess and a prince.

I am not a princess who reaches her vivid palette's dreams.

I am that old woman who was just one of the autumn leaves.

My cyber window is open for you but I miss.

Our cyber vehicles seem to be quick.

Your messages flow as if they were mountain streams.

The old woman weren't crying but I feel her tears on my cheeks.

She wouldn't expect any miracles even in her sleep.

It is winter now and nobody knows where she is.

She disappeared in the autumn mist.

She probably changed me for her to be away from your lips.

My cyber window is near and we meet.

The old woman knew neither you nor me.

She disappeared being a fallen leaf.

Her dusty slippers are glued to my weary feet.

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