Yes, To The Commander Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Yes, to the commander

Do not know about why
Nor do know of the how.

Was sitting over there
Leaning at the cement
Wall of the single cell.

I, still, remember
Motions of my brain,
Recall that with shivers.

Forcefully, was confined,
Solitary, underground…

Set hands, head on my chest
Buddha-like, I sat there,
Like in a yoga class.

Closed eyes
Let time pass,
But how long?

Under my skull's bones
Felt my brain became a web,
The web of spiders
On a thin branch, in the rain.

Then and there, remembered
That woman when answered.

In a lone cell, could picture
Handcuffs on me and her
In the Evin prison,
Did she wear blinds too?

I heard all the questions
From an interrogator.

Fell in love with the answers:
"I followed my husband! "

She was too clever,
Obviously brave.

"As a wife did the must
According to Islam,
I listened, and obeyed…"

I felt that the man who
Ran the show, in his heart
Wished to have such a wife.

But to her this man was
No more than a bore, wild,
Or a slave, hunting dog.

The court man was angered
Raised his voice and shouted.

Silent and against the wall
I listened, boiled inside.

Wished to see their faces,
Both the man and woman
Of the game, justice play.

She knew what happened
To her love, her husband,
He was killed by a bullet
Of the mean government.

The two were team members,
She chose to put the blames
On the deceased, hero, brave.

Now, away, refuged,
I hear of the changes!

For running their circus,
New songs are written
For the school children,
I recall our trip to Sochi,
Brezhnev-Shah meeting:
"Yes, to the commander, "