Papillons - Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
No place for the doubt
-sun was out, birds were not
-they did not chirp neither sang a song
-question on their absence roamed in mind! ! !
I was guest, laid on the night on sofa
-Half-open were my eyes, now ears were spies
Heard nothing, not even single sound…
-died for a hiss to talk of life
-near St. Lawrence was hosts' house
I enjoy the birds of Montreal
-they seem to speak in French or
-mixture of English and Latin with Mi'kmaq
-in morning my lovers, my dears? ? ?
My heart fell: "Possibly world ended, I am dead! "
I moved me…
-landed me on floor and laid down,
-saw the Sun…
-but no bird, all silence…
Had to leave…
-my alarm was set the birds' songs and was shut
-felt worried of world end: "What is wrong? "
-on my feet finally bathed and shaved
-and dressed, headed out
-on window of my car saw insects
-neither were papillons nor locust
-every two sat near as a team
-or couples? Foes? Friends?
-were the birds too busy hunting them?
I headed for the west to get to Toronto
-the insects passengers did their best to remain in place
-but parted forcibly to face their varied fates…
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