Grace To Women Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Grace to women

Grace to women
To whom I owe
They taught me
But…

Did I learn enough?

Busy with Ezra Pound
And T. S. Elliot
The Cantos
And the Wasteland

I recall the works of
William Carlos William
And my professor

The Red Wheelbarrow

She talks of his poems
And about freckle
…
…
I see her
And see my mother
…
…
I picture them in my brain
Their enlarged pictures
Hung by memories' nails
Are in large frames
There, far in the corners…
…
Their memories fly
In my head's sky
…
…
I see them
In these words
The words, I read
…
…
And I read
And I read
…
…
From Ritual to Romance,
Imagism,
And that too is shattered.
…
…
And I hear
The shrapnel
Fall and scatter
…
…
And my mother
Leans against a wall
And gives us advice
And Priscilla
Our professor
Faces us…
…
…
She talks of cuffs
And blinds of the dictators:
"They cannot tie the thoughts."
…
…
And she talks of Tropes
Juxtaposing
And defining
Correctly
Short and concise
…
…
And I read
And I read
…
…
And love women
Mother and sisters
Teachers, professors
And my daughter,
And the lovers too…