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written by: Anahit Arustamyan
@anonarnune20141
The page was written but now it’s blank.
I wonder where the words have escaped.
Maybe a ravine swallowed them up.
I remember the ink was even bluer than a spring bluebell.
The words both cried and giggled like a river in its craze.
Now the page is as pale as my weary face.
The page was even larger than a blue-eyed lake.
I don’t see its size now in this huge shade.
She was born in Yerevan, Armenia, 1963. Poetry books: "The Queen Of Metaphors," "My Intoxicated Ink," "The Phantom's Dolphin," "Words In Flight," "The Canvas Of My Soul," "Where I Meet Myself," "Ink And Quill," the latest poetry book ''Autumn Songs For Nara.'' A novel, ''The Pilot.'' A memoir, ''The Lamp Lights The Way Back.'' Her books are available from Amazon, Lulu, Kobo Writing Life. Her works are also published in some international poetry anthologies and magazines, both online and in print.
Latest posts by Anahit Arustamyan (see all)
- When You Come - October 3, 2025
- The Push Button Phone - July 5, 2025
- October Melody - October 15, 2021
