Silva Merjanian – Rain Had No Scent in Geneva in November

I am hoping this poem will raise awareness to the emotional state of ‘newcomers’ and make a ripple in tolerance and kindness. I moved from Beirut to Geneva during the Lebanese civil war. Leaving everything and everyone you know and love behind takes some adjustment. There is a sense of being pulled from your roots.

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Ting Wang – Six Photographs

When I was little, my dad had our walls decorated with calligraphy scrolls featuring ancient Chinese poetry. He and my mom grew different-colored chrysanthemum in dozens of pots in our courtyard. On some crisp summer mornings, he would gather me and my sisters in front of our water lily pond he built and take photos of us. Beauty then was the elegance and serenity that were surrounding me and my family.

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Patricia Worth – The Enchanted Ring

Three handsome, rich young princes, one named Felibien, another, Roland, and the third, Aymeril, were travelling on horseback through all the countries of the world, followed by a multitude of servants and wagons loaded with their baggage. A chance meeting at an inn had made them friends, and they set off together. Why were they travelling?

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Katherine E. Young – Five Poems about Moscow

For some, the city’s beauty lies in its geography, in its rivers and hills; for others, it is the monasteries, palaces, and bell towers. For me, it lies in the shades of people, real and imagined, who stroll around Patriarch’s Pond in June, when the nights are clear and cool, and puffs of pukh (cottonwood seed) float out across the water.

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