Nassy Fesharaki

Veteran Poet - 3,099 Points (Dec 29 / Iran)

A Carved Bear


A Carved Bear

It’s what time?
I don’t know
Just a day
Late winter
Spring or summer
Mom covered in blanket
Her forehead in bandage
At her feet is something
Soon I’m told
“Your sister”

Years are gone
Mom is dead so is dad
Most of our siblings
But her, I and one live
Shame on life

To the wall I look and
It’s mirror to the past
Some decades
Now oil, beige
Our wall then mud-kahgel
On a wall drawn lines
Signify the tallest to shortest
Six brothers; not so sure
If sister was there too?
Our mother was sexist
Were we too?
I sure doubt

That just born at her feet
Meant a lot
Training and culture
“Mom’s great; child at feet”
Time is gone
Customs killed
What a shame!

For some days
Mom was light
Everyone came around
She was there at center
Aunts came helped
Grandmas and sister

“I want milk”
I told mom
“I want it fresh.
Like sister suckling.”
“Shame on you, you’re a man”
Mom told me

I recall with smile and a laugh
It’d been hard
Setting nipples in pepper
So it’d burn
I’d reject to suck on

Mom is mom regardless
She took a cup
Filled with milk
I drank
At seven

A Bear Named
This poem by Colleen
Took me there
To those days
As wall of adobe
That old sees
What young sees in mirror

I want milk
I want milk
I want milk
Love is the bridge
Love is the bridge
Love is the bridge

Submitted: Sunday, April 27, 2014
Edited: Sunday, April 27, 2014

Topic of this poem: memories


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