Flushed in the spring sunbeams

on the flat roof of their house

three sisters call to each other

frisking, capering

dashing like mad

garlands of jasmine

around their necks.

Mother hangs clothes on the line

oh-oo-oors come from the loft

where the next-door boys

house their pigeons

and the little girls

in a row of dimples

and dirty nails

noses up

push three kites

into the fresh air

rainbow red blue

paper skins rattling

long tails forked below

winged nerves of delight.

with Alborz mountain range behind

the three kites quiver in the breeze

as if permeated with the sisters’

souls

hang up in the sky’s expanse

swinging right and left

in a dance, then glide

and spin round and round

floating softly

back onto

the roof.

the April wind splinters its touch

against the girls’ faces

and carries up the yell

of some boys from down

the front alley

"tough jerks of the road,"

the neighbour boys shout

descending to engage

them in a brawl.

flip kicks, foul curses

flying fists, sound of punches

exchanged, blows to the stomachs

knuckles smashed against the walls.

trinity of luminous whispers

laced with undiluted love

curious sisters bend

on the roof’s low wall

looking down into the alley

troubled

and cross

straighten up

shake their heads

and roll their almond eyes.

swift shadow of an alley cat

pestered coo of white pigeons

Mother climbing back

with more laundry wet

and each girl picks up

her own colour kite

putting her face

into its sail

to smell

the freedom

of flying.

© Azadeh Azad, 2008