My Bus Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My bus

Rebecca, a colleague
Is great, an artist
Generous, she offered
To friends, her palace
October to April.

She posted two photos
Miracle, miracle, miracle
Sufi-like and simple.

I love it
I love it
I love it

But dervish, as I am
I must say: “Sorry man! ”

The nature around it
Inspired, imagines:
Sound of wind when howling
And the wolves when calling
Zeus and Apollo, every god in sky
Angry and jealous; like thunder
Crying and shouting, pearls of hail.

The old bus is heaven
In green and open.

Close eyes and foresee
Pure, white and virgin

The snow of winter
The snow of winter
The snow of winter.