Half Day Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Half Day

Imagine a dark night in the Half-Day
a desert province, has this name
and travelling in wilderness
with those of no grades
but preys to politics
and game of day.

That is me in Afghanistan
running away from politics of Iran
and discover new at each stop.

Our pick-up truck is Saipa
its engine is Toyota
both stolen
illegal.

And in the soft sands we get stuck.

In distance flicker the lights
"Either bandits or Taliban! "
is in the feared minds, and I
am no exception; in thought.

Sky is nothing but miracle of star-
dance, play hide and seek to find
the comets that come toward us
a war zone's bombs…

Instead, came a truck
poor, with a single light
but rich in hospitality
and I had the best of tea

ever in my life…