Who Is He? Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Who Is He?
Who is he?
Smashed was in his hand, paper cup
Of coffee
It was source for going, collecting
A loony, a Toonie
Or somehow other change…
Car to car
His hair long, pitch black
His skin burned brown
(Darker than oil’s grey)
Walked in rush in red light
Looked in eyes, drivers’
With message obvious:
“Come-on, help! ”
His backpack empty
As must be his belly.
I question: “who is he? ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 4:17:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
