My 9-year-old cousin Borna Poursheikhani and I (Bahar Mirhosseini, 26) wrote this poem together, about our visits to Iran.
Baked beets sold steaming on the street
You track down the luscious smell of the bread
Fresh flowers when stoplights turn green
I am going to America, he said
Cars zooming by on the Tehran streets
Taxis, agence, buses, and bikes
Saffron, mint, parsley, and fresh cream sweets
Alborz is an excellent place to hike
Kerman, Tehran, Shiraz, and Rasht
Kabob, Khoresht, Ash, and bademjoon
A lot of men with a lot of pasht
On a clear Abadan night, you see the moon
Time to pack up chamadoons, soghatis, lavashak, and dried cherries
From Mehrabad airport to LAX
Watching women on T.V., running through American prairies
And then driving to copy the pictures and Fed-Ex.
— Long Beach, California, Sunday July 24, 2005
