Gird - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
Leaves are breathless like
Winter clothes in the sun
They know soon
They will be off.
I, ready to go out as Khosrow
Climb the tree near the pond
To peek on Shirin and bathing
Shivering seeing her, exciting.
Clouds are greyish and in tears
Aware of what will soon smear
The roads, of the snow and ice
Forcing ‘Beauties’: “bundle up.”
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