The Sisters Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

The sisters

Of sisters, mush is said
Today, is different…

Both my room and the hall
Are clean, cozy warm…

I have guest, is Khayyam,
We drink old cold wine,
From vase, goblet, jar
And talk of Kahroba
That advanced Edison!

Of that now, all signals,
Of that now, we have life,
Of that now, heat and light.

At table, I sit, write
Of sisters, dead, alive,
Standing side by side,
Near fence, eye to eye.

Every word I hear
Turns me into ashes,
Spine burns, it sweats!

"Hey cousin, my sister, "
Says the pole to other.

"What happened, why naked? "
Asks tree, and wonders!

Hammered, holed, prior,
Rich and young, the latter.

"They cut me when was eight…"
Pole whispered, with tears:
"…sawed, kidnapped, forester! "

On the pole long wires,
On tree, chicks, and nests,
Choir, Conference many birds.