Corridor Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Corridor

Simple is paint on walls
(Straight, winding, tall)
And tiles are brown…

Corridor is too long!

No door is full-open,
-are closed, most of them;
-and limbo, rest of them
- (varying in angles…)

Come from their slots
The echoes off the walls
Classic songs and sounds
Of many lands, nationals.

All are in Canada…

Most of these residents
Are physically here…

But their thoughts?

Behind doors live people
Like trees uprooted…

Every soul is thirsty, hungry
(AS was the Wandering Spirit.)