Honing Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Honing

In the heat of the sun,
I honed on, a woman, bike, a dog.

Poor my nose, ears, eyes,
They witnessed what went on.

Nose absorbed the stench,
Ears heard dog's breaths,
Eyes observed a deranged.

She, her hair and clothes,
Talked without any voice.

She had kissed the world, bye,
Did not care for the laws…

Was free of all bounds,
Thanks to use of drugs.

I felt sad for the dog,
Thin like hair, bones a lot.

But she, stinking master,
Watered the dog by bucket…

Angry I was, yet,
Admired her kindness.