AT SEVAN

	By Michael E. Stone


	White fluffy cotton balls,
	Carrying the poplar's seed,
	Gather in cracks and crevices
	Along the lake's front.

	The Island, they called it, in Sevan,
	But bound to the shore now,
	A hill, the churches on the top,
	Pop-up book cut-outs.

	Across, above the lake's low green shoreline,
	Snow in the mountains' folds,
	Mountains' cotton ball seeds.

	*

	Sevan's Snow

	Lake Sevan's bluish water
	shines like burnished steel.
	Hills low as huts are
	dappled with shadows
	shaped like Rorschach tests.

	Beyond, the mountains circle
	like a mother's embrace,
	still holding snowy patches
	in their old skin's folds and creases

	*

--
Michael Stone is Professor of Armenian Studies at the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem. He has published poetry in Ararat, Avocet,
Byline Magazine, Hazmat Review, King Log, Mandrake Poetry Review,
Ruah, White Heron, ARC, and Voices Anthology. He also translates
medieval Armenian poetry into English and has published translations
in Ararat, Sion and St. Nersess Theological Review. He is at present
finalizing an English translation of the medieval biblical epic
Adamgirk' by Arak'el of Siwnik'. In addition to poetry he has
published numerous scholarly books and articles on Armenian studies.