Anne, the puritan*,
Compares her children to young birds
Who have flown out of the nest
And left her alone
In shady woods.
I get up and go to your room
And look at the dark screen of your computer
Which looks like a window
With closed blinds.
Will I go to sleep again
With the hum of your raps at night?
And will I wake up in the morning
With your punctuated breath
Hanging from the exercise bar on your door?
I wear your leather jacket
Put on your polished shoes
Look at myself in your full-size mirror
And see you in a dance club at night
With a big mike in your hand.
No, my fledgling
Has grown into a singing bird
And even in this empty nest
I can hear his proud voice
From far-away forests.
Majid Naficy
October 25, 2009
* Anne Bradstreet (1612-72) was an English poet who immigrated to New England with her parents and husband. Here, there is an allusion to her poem, entitled “In Reference to Her Children” written on June 23, 1659.
