Poetry
Anna Ter-Yegishyan
does more than look;
it watches with
moisture collecting
in the hollow
of its wing
dewy anticipation
disguised by a hot pink hood
and in my case
sunglasses
a men’s visor
brave petals
turned bright petals
after five p.m.
when we come home
a helpless wild
crawls up its stem and
my face when I look
in the mirror
disarrayed
by my own wilting
momentary joy
fills the view;
it watches with
petals pleated
petals spread
brave palms
turned pallid palms
on Wednesdays
we drop ice cubes into its vase
how fast they melt
we watch it watch
the neighbors
sans curtains
put their groceries away
a hunch
to divert
its lip
sound of pond
nesting asphalt
outside our living room window
sound of hose
turning on
children willingly unshielded
living room window
opening
to let orchid
sit in light
door sounds
stir dorsal
does shy
sideways glance
outside our living room sounds
could make an orchid shimmy out of its vase
hurriedly;
late for greenery
outside in our chairs
when you ask
what I’m staring at so reticently
I respond
a hummingbird’s back.