Old Friends Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Old friends

His hair is mountain top,
He is sunk in sofa,
His lids rest on eyeballs
And lashes hug too tight
Looks nowhere, just front.

He leans, sort of upright,
closed eyes, looks afar,
With face's reactions
Revealing emotions.

Behaves like watching a
Movie, filled with action…

Must be deep into past
That is gone, did not last.

Remembers his first car,
Buying the Range-Rover,
Skiing down mountains
And flying the jets…

Or could be, possibly
Thinking of what may be
Tomorrow in B.C.

Is ready, has arranged
The trip as needed,
Is leaving Toronto
For life in Vancouver.

A sort of introvert
Skips talks with others,
Sits alone and harmless,
Does Yoga instead.

We are like lost and found
Of Iran and US.

With me, raises glass
We talk of then and now.