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I sit at the edge of my memories


May 29, 2006

I sit at the edge of my memories
and I wonder if I own them

are they truly mine?

or do they sit at the edge of a window sill
waiting for a passerby to take them

do their moments belong to eternity
to the sun
to the wheels of time
or do they only take place in my heart

do they swim in an ocean
enticing land to embrace them
waiting to be rescued

or do they relish their freedom
to roam the streets at night
to fly and touch the moon
to soar across lands
reaching the textures of my childhood

I sit at the edge of my memories
and I wonder if I own them

or if they belong to the wind
if they pass from moment to moment
touching other souls as if a soft breeze

as proof of my existence
of my mistakes
of my triumphs
keeping a light, loose string touching
all that I’ve seen, been, tasted, hated and loved.


April 18, 2006
7:74 am

For letters section
To Baharak Sedigh

Baharak Sedigh


Book of the day

Stories From Iran
A Chicago Anthology 1921-1991
edited by Heshmat Moayyad

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