Ash Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Ash

She sat wrapped in chador, worn, black
Wet sticks and branch
Filled stove; her Tanoor,
Tinder, leaves, hay and wood
For a tea

Under ash old fire
She removed and blew
(Hard; with care)
White turned grey, into red
Then sparks here, there

Once again
Fresh life for fire
Piled sticks and wet wood
She blew and blew and blew
Tear ran down her cheeks
Wrinkles were all over head to chin

Rose flames
Left to right and center
A choir of its own in fire
Sound of chicks, crickets
With smoke on the run
Dynasties came to fall
Red, pink, blue and yellow
Colorful portrait

In smoke kettle was a silhouette
Reminded morning fog
Winding road, mountain top
Marvelous, she sat watched
So did guests; sitting round
All for tea

Now senate's story
CIA and tortures, GOP
Same fire, same smoke and blow