Shipwrecks Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Shipwrecks

Many times, not just once
I saw the raindrops
Slide on the wall-sides
And windows and shingles.

Water loves lower heights
Gutters are the way down
So, they pour with power
That can turn the mill or
A turbine that gives light
To pages at midnights
(Purim, jails shape the sides
Filled with the innocents!)

Not just once, many times
I saw the fall and rise
Of needy that survived
Wishing that they had not.

Many times, many times
Visited the graves, hospitals
Willing to find the cause
Of doctors, nurses, death
Being there and their dose.

Heading for the West End
After did the East End
To visit residents
(Indians, First Nations
That lived there for ages)
I think of the shipwreck
Of Carricks, or Irish
When shattered by hunger.

The French, British,
English and Irish,
The Welsh and Scottish
Destroyed indigenous…
(lied, acted, as friends!)

How could they?