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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.