Howard Fletcher Poem by Sina Sanjari

Howard Fletcher



The backyard is connected to green belt
to the trails
sitting on the wooden bench staring at the rows of trees
but it is futile
cannot remember what year was
on Halloween day
when Mrs. Robinson brought Howard into darkness
Perhaps this is the reason that nobody says hello to Howard's wife
Nobody remembers what happened.
.....
Among the rows of trees
a gray shadow comes out
blood was flowing from his neck
coagulated on the grass
it must be Howard
son of Benjamin Fletcher
signs of the end of the world are evident in his face
I have not seen him for years
years of shadows and darkness
mixed of strange voices among us
a beautiful woman walks in sounds
should be Howard's wife
I recognized her because of her big breasts
....
no time
I must go back to the kitchen
to look at the street from the kitchen window
the stillness of Westwood street in autumn
the year when Howard disappeared
I want to focus my mind of something
but it is futile
Nobody remembers anything
words lost in darkness
Nobody remembers Howard's wife
...
Tomorrow morning
I should greet Mr.Bunten
to see what reaction he shows
whether he says Hi to me or not
©Sina Sanjari
October 2014

Sunday, April 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: story
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