Views Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Views

While reading, imagine
Gallery and artists.

Each of with the brush, paint,
On easels, canvases.

They work on same subject.

In centre, is a boy
Seven, eight, is his age.

Now, picture one more scene
In big bowl are greens.

Cut into pieces, chopped
For making the salad.

There, sit salt and pepper
Olive oil with more herbs.

Still lacks the right taste
Of creamy sweet and sour.

Back in shop, the boy is
Running like the engine.

Runs behind the counter
And answers customers.

He weighs and calculates,
"Is it all? " he questions.

Wraps and bags as needed,
In meantime, receives cash.

Then goes out to sidewalk
Rips opens bags of limes.

Half fills the clay jar
With water, throws limes.

Gives it time and later
Sits on a small chair.

In front has an urn
Wooden board set on it.

To his side roller, knife
Cuts open, mid of limes.

Then each lime is rested
On the board, pressured.

Finally, with roller,
Extracts juice to end…

He works as if robot
Winded and energised.

When ends that fills bottles
And leaves their tops open.

Customers, same, or else
Come, buy juice by bottle.

They take it to kitchen
And add it to salad…

The lime juice that kid gets
Serves people at tables…

In fact, boy, and farmers
Are the basis of tastes
To the lunch and dinner
Of the doctors, teachers.

Now, it is time to go
And visit the artists.

Each of them is busy
With drawing, painting.

No two see the same way
Even with same subject.