Grandchildren Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Grandchildren

Was dream
-knew it.

Even then, when dreamt
-I bore and dealt with it.

Looked at sides…

Ran child of my daughter
-we played
-soft, sweet and cute
-and joyful.

Pleasant, it was as used to be
-the baby-animals in early spring
-suckling on mommies.

Pleasant, as the looks in the eyes
-of mothers, turning heads for watching
-and licking.

All fresh as were the
-sprouts crawling
-up from womb of Earth
-for sun-reach.

Then, I read…and I made…stories…
- (On how worked family…)

"Mom, tell me how he was…
-how he is…" ask babies.

My daughter, my dear
-closes eyes to act
-as robots; factories
-lift, mould and weld
-and polish
-vehicles for export…must be sold.

Duplicates of the lies that made up her mother
-No feeling…a repeat…digital…zeroes…ones…