Like Mountains - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
“Choose yourself, ” said father.
Then I was little child,
Maybe four, maybe five.
He sent me to distance for the goats
Baby ones, for my size.
Came shepherd and his herd
Varied size, and colours and designs…
Few had small horns, mostly not.
I was lost
My limit obvious
Would be called having pets
But were they?
They were toys, also job
To grow professional
To learn life of village
Villagers were smart.
Many such stories to make books
Growing with such toys and…
Picking leaves, calling: “Boochoori”.
They followed, raced with us
With us ate and grew
Much faster and at last
Set to use…
We remained the babies…
They became he, she goats…
And could be, lamb, sheep…
What a life I have lived
Born there but, lived in towns.
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