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Children and grown-ups

Mother gets dizzy these days
unpacking saffron and sumac
she barters for our love--
Mostly, she sleeps
in America.

My brothers are suburban husbands
over and over again
they scream at football gorillas
on television.

My nephews and a neighbor boy
sit under the cinnamon-maple
pitching acorns at a squirrel

One bets his father can strangle a running bear
The other swears his can climb Kilamanjaro
I pretend I'm reading Machado
September bends the poplars

I like being my age
I like that I am
their uncle
I feel drowsy these days
I like my chair.

Kambiz Naficy

NEXT POEM: The academia bridge

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