Iridescence
Melineh Yemenidjian
poetry ⋅ issue 2
She sits alone
in a dark kitchen-
plate of stale rye
before her
waiting for him
to patch the roof
against rain
She stands alone-
iris of sky;
clouds tremble
with the wrath
of petulant gods
but it will be she who smiles
the rainbow across the sky
She dances alone
dew glistens
in her hair,
with each step
Hope sticks
like jacaranda blooms
to the bottom of her soles