Night Always Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Night Always

Then…

Kippling put pen down; lifted gun
He rose hell when killing, shed blood.

For London.

“All is ours, nothing theirs, even if…remains ours.”
Claimed at, point blind; turning light into dark:
“Beasts Blacks, and the white is the foe…”

He shouted; hunted finch.

Squeezed into cage and covered with cloth
Day turned night…long… dark night,
“White and dark; ” divided the races
Forever; days and nights

And finch sang…sang a song, mourning ode.
Feeding seed and coleslaw had no use.

Vitamin…did not work.

Finch in cage still sings the same ode
Is same bird? Other one?

Regardless, is inter-generations…?

Finch’s Pain sounds like the First Nations’
Mississauga, Milwaukee, Ojibway.

The 'Good' and 'Beautiful'; 'Pleasant Land'
Now is base where Finch kisses Kippling
Both touch, hug; peoples live in tribes
Mostly mixed Caribbean; with past of Africa, India.
Displaced long ago;
Mishmashes without White.

Among them Iraqis of same race;
Lailati…meaning night…their place
The Ode is like Finch’s: “Night Always”