Homesick Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Homesick

He, Saeed, was actor
-like many, went away
-and ended in U.S.

That is where he, many
-missed smell of Iran
-as old home that grazed
-in the sun for ages
-to have the blood taste
-in the rose of Kashan.

There, Yankees were not kind;
-failed him in all grounds but drugs,
-so, collapsed to his knees to have bowed.

Suddenly decided to return
-and he did like others…

Heard of his heart attack
-yes, he died very young.

Was buried with respect
-amongst artists' graves.

And what if
-had not been the revolt
-forcing us to escape?

And what if
-we stayed where we were
-free to produce, deliver?

And what if
-open were the brains
-to arts and progress?

And what if
-he and me, and many
-had the chance to be home?

Death is hard in distance!