Silver String Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Silver string

Silver line shines in sun
From wall to the bars,
Near the balcony.

Sky is in palms of
The pieces of cloud.

Together, they take me
To Louvre and Hermitage.

I stand by paintings
On walls of museums
Confused, I cannot
Define and recognise
Impressionists' ideas!

Trees' leaves are green,
See them dance in breeze
Like those in Lafayette,
Pushed away by the police.

And I am observer
Student, as always.

What is this skin bag?
Why do I ask questions?
"Who makes and arranges?
And whose laws regulate? "

I swim in the light
Of a gold-silver sun,
And prisms of clouds.

Chilliness of breeze
Caresses and I think
That I am in some jail,
Very dark, windowless.

I try to get out
Unaware of the sides
Slip, fall further down!