Died Dreams Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Died dreams

Came her name and order
Imagined and saw her
Young, blonde, blue eyed
Hair parted, fallen, soft
Her face rose with smile
And wearing white blouse
Under it an open dark bra
Her breasts lemons, limes
So juicy, watered mouth!

I counted my steps
Slow walk to take long.

Four-o-eight fourth floor
No reply, knocking door!

Finally and shyly a phone call
Picked; waited and then talked
Words took time to come out
Unable to speak, a half dumb:
"It is ten, thirty one! "

With patience I spoke and waited…
Finally at her door I observed
Had mixed up everything
Door number to buzzer
Held a dog as broom
Some old witch…

Died dreams!
Were buried!