Brief Conversation Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Brief Conversation
Brief conversation
I stood in open
watched flakes in the air
one landed on my nose.
Both my eyes turned, converged
And we talked.
“Won’t clean, ” I said and…
“And why not? ” came question…
“Want to see…” I murmured
“My life? Death? ” it questioned.
Then I felt; no words said
“Why not give? Why not help before death…”
When I looked water was, not flake.
It was dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 7:05:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
