First Day Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

First Day



First day

Roads are wet, ditches filled
Grey are the skies, grass sings
The smell in the air is like jets
Aerobatic flies the soft essence.

Conference is over, evening,
In my mind the actions and faces
Their brains prisoned. Crippled
Some faces, and funny or showy
“Normally brains are behind bar.”

Friday, June 12, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: observation
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