Cinnamon Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Cinnamon

I boiled the pack of milk
- (‘expired', after weeks)
-and added cinnamon…
- (as had seen in childhood.)

In Tehran, when was kid
-they set me in high chair,
-to wait for the barber.

The chairs were in open.
-We faced wall of bricks
-on the west corner of
-old Meidan Fawzieh...

The barbers hung mirrors,
-relatively small, in frames.

On coming, his machine,
-said: "click and click…"

The cut hair would fall on
-my lap and kids looked on.

He had a silver and long blade
-that sharpened using belt
-of leather; which made wet.

He trimmed, and levelled
-around neck and ears…
-also shaved sides of face.

Then came the cup of tea
-in a small glass, steaming;
-with sugar, in cube on saucer.

The served-tea was very special
-and became idiom: "cheap barber"
- (for being spiced with cinnamon!)