POETRY

When someone asks me about my background

To the curious mind, I don’t say a Persian kind

I am not Persian like a lovely cat or lamb

Neither Persian like summer cucumber or melon

My language is called Persian, rightly

I don’t get upset if it is called Farsi

Persian words do not march aimlessly for me

Instead they are needed to read kadkani and Rumi

Kismet brought me here, I clearly see

But tell me where you are, Serendipity

I don’t live in a palace nor do I drive a bimmer

My hair has highlights, please don’t simmer

I am for peace, opposing the war machine

I hardly follow life of the sad queen

My customs may be complex or they can be basic

Mid March, in my home, apple dances with garlic

I was born in Iran, land of Tabriz, Rasht and Abadan

I celebrate longest night Yalda and also Mehregan