Coronavirus, poetry by Anahit Arustamyan at Spillwords.com

Coronavirus

Coronavirus

written by: Anahit Arustamyan

@anonarnune20141

 

The sky has a bath in the spring rains.
Its infected eyelids are dark even by day.
Spring rains are not new.
The black plague took another shape.
The middle ages’ plague has a new name.
Where are the planes?
I don’t see their free flights in the sky’s blue.
Will I get a seat on a plane?
Will I leave my footprints on a seashore’s sands?
No plane flies.
The sky cries.
Do I see my pillow on a hospital’s bed?

Anahit Arustamyan

Anahit Arustamyan

I was born in Yerevan, Armenia, 1963. After graduating the university I published some of my earlypoems in the local anthology called ''Garun'' translated into English ''Spring''. My later works were published in different international anthologies and online magazines. I authored paperback books entitled My Intoxicated Ink, The Queen Of Metaphors and e-books entitled My Wandering Muse, My Lyrical Tongue and The Phantom's Dolphin. My books are in English and available on Amazon and Lulu.
Anahit Arustamyan

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