Ghosts Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

In the car and forward
In morning and too dark
Ghost came and fast crossed
Driver open-eyed
'What was that? '
He whispered
Was afraid
'What was that so early, a sitter of baby, watcher of elderly or homeless and needy, a worker? '
Then he prayed to his God and conscious
And smiled: 'I'm lucky! What if I...'
His hands shook
Of sweats, warm spine
His hands both on the wheel

Day went by
On return at night fall
Back on road he drove
Again dark
Poor vision
Once again the same thing

'What is this, what if I? '

Too worried; troubled
He tried to change mind
A woman he had seen came around
(Though blur)
In her hand
(The left one)
Held coffee
On elbow of the same
Hung hand bag
'Poor women...'
He thought then
He smiled
Then sighing he frowned:
'Were the ones on my way poor women like this one? '