Her 70 Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Her 70

Being one, lone ‘Not us! '
I was there, with them, all,
If not the core and central.

Theirs Green and blue eyes,
And hairs were Red, blonde,
Salt-Pepper, Hazels, mine…

Muslim-born, from far
I have come,
Elderly, no more a child.

I've crossed the borders,
Of the lands, souls, cultures,
I see us as sisters and brothers.

They were mine, I was theirs,
They are mine; I am theirs.
That made me the core central.

Brian had arranged,
Birthday to celebrate,
Sugar Mom's 70-Year.

I mingled, we had fun,
Danced and talked,
I enjoyed Pam's Cezar!