Nugget Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Nugget

I watch her in my side mirror
She is my morning game
Traffic is a disaster
We stand still.

She is a canvas, painted
Not a women, expected

Black shades for the sun
That plays hide and seek
Pancaked her rosy cheek
Lips shape blood of liver
Hand plays tars of hairs
Tampering life and death.

She lowers her visor
Her world in mirror
Revisiting: “Good? ”
Her round mouth
Opening of urn
Of wine?
Whine?
Curse?
Pain?
I go
To look at another woman
Wide-mouthed dent-a-floss

Bye.

But a crow, landing on the lamp
Steals my attention, great miracle
Approaches, slows down, flapped
The best scene I could ever expect.