Wheat Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Wheat

I mimic the old man in desert
Forming my hand; it's a visor
He hid the sun, I
Fool me through a binocular
Seeing flattened though hilly
The land
As far as eye can observe
Abandoned, scattered, if tree
In the occupied land; refugee
Are the indigenous

In seasons I watched
This field's plowing, sowing, ripping
Now in sunshine
Golden wheat dancing
Soon the bread I will eat

Shame on me
The true nature I have killed
The birds, the beasts; also
The great lovely trees
On sides and top of the hills