My Abstract Canvas Poem by Anahit Arustamyan

MY ABSTRACT CANVAS

My abstract canvas is locked in a mute drawer.
I painted myself as the ghost of a land explorer.
My solitude is still my stubborn anchor.
In the locked drawer my canvas may lose its colour.
Will my phantom telescope show me the land which I can discover?
Will I sail there in a golden summer?
My crazy dreams roar like a wounded tiger.
The ashes used to be pieces of paper or even a teller.
The kindhearted land I am looking for is just created by a painter.
I hear the heartbreaking tune of a homeless pipe player.
Where is my naval uniform and the breeze lighter than a feather?
O these clouds have probably hidden my compass in their platinum shelter.