June 1, 1998
The Iranian
Parveen & I
in Masjed Solaiman
Time stopped when I refused to teach her
the jitterbug in Masjed Solaiman
An ancient pond
A frog jumps in
The sound of water
Basho 1644
she had not seen me for five years
and after we picked the poppies on the hill
went swimming in the moonlight
without the top of our bathing suit
she sang Iranian songs in the living room
in a Bakhtiari costume nanny Kalkeshvar had made
after I made mine
just as expected violets
on the sunny hill
the stream gurggling
she wore a white wooly lamb's-wool jacket
when I hugged her
on the winding road of Masjed Solaiman at dusk
drinking from the stream
Bakhtiari in black
a white flower
we stopped on the road from Abadan to MIS
Abol with Parveen Paree Jamshid and Cyrus
Helen with me Lailee and Mary Nell
the family together again
hot heat for an hour then the air is warm
the last night comes soon
the separation of World War II
me in Los Angeles listening to the Chattanooga Choo Choo
Parveen in MIS singing the songs of the Bakhtiari
waiting for the war to end
above the river a circle of swallows
we would walk from Kalgeh to the outdoor movie theater
by the mud-straw houses on the hill
with evening fires baking nan
sweet smell of opium
Indian soldiers in starched khaki English uniforms
turning the corner
at sunset after the rains
sounds of marching men was satisfying
a hundred sparrows flying together rush by and vanish
we didn't know in that place the happy old man with light shinning
on his head would walk away
in the darkness he would leave us again
and again
dimly awake, sleeping with thousands of frogs
who won't keep quiet
under the tall hydrangea hedges
sheltering sparrows
the white wolf dog barking by the sleeping guard
listening to the night barks in the hills
centered in the sky, a shinning piece of the moon
went on the same pathway back to America
not long after - another morning - shadows moving
Parveen and I were living in the basement on Harrison Street
in spring the poppies just beyond the broken gate in MIS were blooming
though no one lives there now.
White Cloud
May 1998
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Copyright © 1997 Abadan Publishing Co. All Rights Reserved. May not be duplicated or distributed in any form.
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