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Fine ash

By Roger Sedarat
March 14, 2002
The Iranian

Dear regime,

After you've ground him into powder, can burn this to a fine ash. His family feels

it would be better off with nothing.

My Father returned from Iran with everything but his bones.

He said customs claimed them as government property.

.........We laid him on a Persian carpet in front of the television.

.........When I'd hold his wrist to his face

because he wanted to know the time,

I could see the holes made from swords in his elbow.

His arm reminded me of kabob koobideigh.

It was hard for him to look outside;

he said the cumulus clouds

were too much like marrow

.........and he couldn't stand watching the dog

sniff the backyard, searching

.........for the rest of him. We put him to bed, my sister and I,

.........thinking that beside Mom he'd turn

into himself,

but through the door we only heard him crying,

.........telling his wife he could never again make love,

.........and through the keyhole we saw Mom shivering with him

wrapped around her like an old blanket

.........until he died in the morning,

.........and she folded him into a rectangle,

mailing him in a white shoebox

back to his country

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By Roger Sedarat

Persian Haiku

Pilgrimage from America to Iran


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