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
