Turnips Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Turnips

In those days when sun-ice had meaning; were natural
I was child; we had farm, daddy worked and my mom
She was great, a mother, a teacher, a nanny and mentor
Summer, fall, and winter, always warm, warmth of love
Connected Dad and mom, siblings and cousins, aunts-uncles
Secure and barefoot we climbed, ran and sat anywhere freely
Neighbors' land and gardens, and their house were like ours
Wilderness was harsh but...we were strong taught: "Be man"
We fell and ran blood; we wiped out, no tears; ‘No' to cry
In winter, out of hole-storage- in the ground, we surfaced
Potatoes, the beetroot and carrots, as well as the turnips
Mom boiled them; added salt and it was delicious medicine
"It is great for your cold; is healthy, " tonight I, ate one raw.