Anahita Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Anahita

Long has passed of her death
-nothing but bone and hair in grave
-the pride, hopes, dreams
-of higher positions
-are gone and, buried, dead.
-She left us easily; had cancer.
-No more we whisper in the silence:
- "Here comes professor."

We, thirty, students
-of early literature
-gazed at her, wearing red
-and black…

She loved these two colors
-they were her favorites;
-and had hats,
-plenty…different…

She, also, gathered dolls
-most of all, the stuffed.

Wrote on board, explained
-metaphors to tropes, juxtapose.

Was in love with poems
-reopened the bags and
-deciphered the coded
-loved the one with flea;
- (a concise poem with ambiguity :)
- "Sat on you sucked blood
-then on me…my blood;
-so, we have shared blood! "

Said: "fickle"
-in a way that fickle
-was too self-explained
- (unlike the trivia
-by Peter…)

We were worms; she, eagle!

Now, my cells
-heart's, brain's and ears'
-shout her name like artists;
-who fail to rebuild her…

"Hey, Prof, Priscilla…"
-want to ask…to ask her
-about the Anita, Anahita:
- "How are they related? "

With my hands resting, desk
-both elbows are the base
-for the arms as studs
-on which lay my chin, head…

Recall my first poem
-I stole the style of Sohrab,
-then added a content…

Could see it in her eyes:
- "You, cheater…"

Thought of me as expert
- (a poet by nature)
-was correct, incorrect
-what I gave as my first...
-was first and was not first!

Once reset two of chairs
-and sat me next to girl:
- "You act as characters, "
-I would ask for beer!
- (We, Yankee and the girl,
-followed the Hemingway's.)

With her gone
-I do what she wanted
- (Serious researcher!)

Anita can be of the Bible;
-also is the shortened
"Anahita…"