Apartment House At Evening
Something about a hundred windows
lit up like a ship's upper decks, something
about the weed trees
tossing like water below
and the cumulus steam
from the boiler stacks billowing away
and something, too, about a woman
taking off her heels and leaning
dreamily on the balcony railing
as if there's an ocean about her
and something about the laundry
strung up between apartments
like flags signalling the future
and about the samba now
wafting in the cool breeze
and moonlight falling from everywhere
and Nevrig dancing on the rooftop with Aram
and the city blazing with lights
like a harbor about to be left behind
with its customs house and identity cards,
the lines untied, the deep
horizonless night rolling in.
Gregory Djanikian
9:17 AM