Of Sara Teasdale Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Of Sara Teasdale

Sara has opened it
a window to window of my heart
she writes on and about:
“The Lighted Window”

She starts:
“He said: …winter dusk…”

Teasdale who
like many of poets and writers and artists
saw the world as nothing to live for, of value
Inspired.

She made me make a cart with bearings
in it I
(as we did in old days of asphalt In Tehran)

Wooden box
two bearings on the rear
a handle and hinge and …

Someone pushed and
I drove as if car…

She took me to marbles and the games
Fingers, Mat
And water in the pipe on corner…
Feshari

Oh Sara, oh Sara, oh Sara was it you?
Or am I crazy?

Will I too be like you?
(has gone home…”committed suicide.”)

Everything possible
Where is guts?