Her Cold Nights Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Her cold nights

Recall when the mountains
-were like wax in the hand
-under feet…I climbed.

The weak and golden sun of early spring
-acted as does the mouse in hiding.

Ran beneath the snow, and ice; thinned.
-The water; not at all visible, pristine.

The curving snow's lips sat on the ice's face, wavy and frozen…
-Mesmerised, lost in thoughts, I would sit and observe for hours.

Put my lips to her lips and though cold
-felt her melt; rose steam with breath.

Neither of time, breath nor the melted snow
-can return to bodies, same cages, prisons.

The same is with the words and comments;
-when come out can't ever be returned.

That woman was a puff (simple and innocent)
-from mouth and after deep intake, cigarette's.

Her brain and her thoughts mostly formed by others.

Life changed and she, mother to three children
-whose father, her husband, was absent
-was begged to tell them of stories of their life; relatives…

Inexpert and simple, unaware
-she, who had been smoke in the air
-forming and taking shape by the wind and breeze;
-said things that have shattered everything…

Now alone in her bed, old and sick feels lonely as lion
-in the zoo; abandoned, angry, powerless and encaged.

How wishes she had not said the words that have caused
-the flame that raised hell full of hate; at start was spark!