John Kaprielian


Overnight drop by drop the
transparent prison encases
twigs branches leaves needles
cones berries building to a
dawn crescendo of blinding radiance
as sunlight cascades through
ice lenses and prisms scattering
myriad multicolored flashes

Slowly the trees awaken sap pulsing
under placid bark and like arthropods
they cast off their glassy exoskeletons
in a cacophony of crystalline clatter
the shards shatter and melt on the pavement
and soon the entire scene returns to
dull winter gray even in my photographs.

Some things cannot be captured, only seen.

Porch of Dreams

It looks out over the lake
supports our chairs and the weight
of a million childhood memories
everything is different now yet still
the same as if each blade of grass
was fixed and the island was a
painted backdrop while all else
decayed and was rebuilt in a new but
different form. But this porch
is unchanged, its pillars white
thick with layers of paint like
tree trunks growing imperceptibly
railings where we sat and talked
and watched the fireflies choreograph
the hot summer evenings, opening
act for the stars and meteors
that would flood the late-night sky
as we lay on blankets and spoke
of futures that never came to pass

John Kaprielian has been writing poetry for over 30 years. A nature photographer and photo editor by occupation, he brings his eye for natural history to many of his poems, which are often inspired by his observations. He studied creative writing at Cornell with the poet A.R. Ammons while getting his degree in Russian Linguistics. In 2012 he challenged himself to write a poem a day for a year and self-published the poems in a book, “366 Poems: My Year in Verse,” available on Amazon. He has been published in The Five-Two Poetry Blog, New Verse News, What Rough Beast, The Blue Nib, The Blue Mountain Review, and Thema. He lives in Putnam County, NY with his wife, teenage son, and assorted pets.

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