Shroud Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Shroud

In my car, in parking
I can think in waiting.

Call must come
Of myself, of obscene.

Sky is obscurer and comes rain
Nice people's reflections.

It is like observing
Best film in the movies.

Musical, adventure
Film-noir or suspense.

To last part I laugh loud:
"Who defined the genres? "

Then think of birth to death
Woman in labour-pain; to grave.

With the last see caskets
Old mummies in baskets

Egyptians and Huaris
Wear shrouds to cover.

What have they to tell us?
Like king of Hamadan?

He ordered:
"Leave my hand out in air
When am gone, I am dead."

Wanted men to see, learn:
"We go as we have come,
Take nothing; leave them all."