Foxes Of Yesteryears Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Foxes Of Yesteryears
Foxes of yesteryears
Too early in morning
down long hall am walking
many doors on each side
can hear the loud sounds
of TVs, Radios.
“The oldies are awake…”
I murmur, counting on:
“most of them, if not all
are useless, sick jackals.”
Angry, firmly walk
inside me shouts; I talk:
“Foxes of yesteryears
now living in ant-holes
never leave their place
if they do leech crawls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:01:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
