white storks
leaving for the west
their nests, woven on rooftops
electric poles and trees
that touch the sky –
now empty
white storks
gliding over lands
so close and out of reach
behind the mountains of Ararat
now looming like a wall –
(or a promise?)
white storks
crossing the hollowed
homes and crumbled churches
of my ancestors; (will I too wander
on the streets where once
they played?)
white storks
disappearing one by one
into the sun, unknowing, perhaps
that they will return at the first call
of spring to fill their nests
with new life
Poem by Christina Nercessian
Christina Nercessian is an Armenian writer and a Creative Writing MFA student at the University of British Columbia. Her work has appeared in Armenia’s Hraparak Magazine and Scotland’s The Record Magazine. She aims to create stories, poetry, and essays that offer a refuge, while inspiring their readers to live life to the fullest. To find out more, visit christinanercessian.com.