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Al Hagopian

A name from my childhood,
let me tell you about him.

He was my Dad’s best friend,
Armenian by birth and passion,
glistening dark eyes, bear hugs,
open laughter and big family gatherings,
platters of strange yummy food.
I thought of him today while watching
a movie,”Promise”, about Armenian genocide by the Turks.
Now I wonder, did his family immigrate here fleeing the horror?
                             ~~Judi Van Gorder

Notes: ▼

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Hi Tink

A lot in this poem. There is a lot of 'surface' in 'knowing' people and then a little knowledge may glimpse below that surface. Of course, age gives time for reflection and childhood innocence is lost.

Sadly, the latest news from New Zealand tells us that 'horror' has no national boundaries.



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Can only concur with badge. 

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