Independence Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Independence

In low lands, Santa Cruz
Guarani is bruised
For long time…
From Incas

“Masters’ lands are now yours
You are free…”
Came a note, Government’s.

As if bees are smoked
Men in masks
Uniformed
Everything was funny
Tragic

“How can we? ”
They questioned and crawled like the worms:
“And the seeds, and clothes, and … and…and…”

“Once you were the owners
Not the white, Gringo.”
Said agent.
Guarani looked at him as if foe.

The whale in Vancouver
Birds in cage
The condor in the dome
And lion, and the seal and the wolf
In the zoos

All are same
As are those
In the boats
Off Burma