● Drifting in the Snow
We traverse snow-covered trails,
The moon, vast and imposing,
Our path was obstructed.
Yet, still, a pristine veil of white,
It fell unceasingly.
Hands buried deep in my coat pockets,
We abandoned the moon to vanish into the embrace of snow.
In the enveloping darkness, we pressed on.
Isolated, chilled, and adrift,
There is no moon to guide us.
There is no snow to mark our footsteps.
Just us.
● Lost in the Past
For the Third Time
He refills the teacup, now cold and neglected.
Yet again,
A pale, icy light.
Filters through the frayed edges of the curtain,
Projecting a Ghostly Outline
A time that has faded into the mists of memory.
I turn my gaze.
Fixing it in the eyes of a child
Darting through the room,
Surrounded by his modest treasures—
The items were nothing more than four matchboxes.
● Through the Glass
A plate filled with apples.
A glass filled with shards of ice.
And you,
Peering at me
From the rim of the glass.
● Crows and Repeating Days
As always
With that same newspaper,
You are sitting on the park bench.
Gazing at the crows’ evening return.
Autumn.
● Endless Shadow
In the Twilight
Backed against the wind, you stand firm.
In Grandpa’s army coat, two buttons are unfastened.
The eyes remained fixed and motionless.
Your Shadow
Stretches
To the horizon
● Ink-Stained Eternity
Inkwell,
On Raven’s Wings,
Ink runs wild.
The Tree
Etches its branches onto aged paper.
How sudden!
In an instant,
Eternity Takes Shape
In the stillness of silence.
● Fading Shadows
The moon creeps through the pomegranate branches.
Its shadow drifts over your hennaed hair.
Your hand trembles.
The comb slips from your tangled hair.
The moon and grandmother’s shadow,
faint and soft,
fade into the porcelain plate—
a trace of the pomegranate’s crimson smile,
slowly disappearing.
● Stony Gaze
In the void of his stony gaze,
Everything
seems perpetually deferred—
Even
The Last Flight of a Bird
which becomes a point
Marking the end of the day.
Vanishing into the horizon.
● Lost in the Dark
Objects
are not like colors
that fade away
into the darkness,
forgotten,
like your name.
● Whispers in the Hall
Echoes creep through the corridor,
Painting the leaves in an emerald hue,
And dyeing the fish a fiery red.
The cat’s luminous gaze
Pierces the gloom,
A predator poised to strike.
● Wrinkled Memories
It gallops,
Like a horse,
Over the wrinkles of my forehead.
I trace my hand
Over all that’s past,
And all that’s bound to pass.
Rasoul Moarek Nejad
A poem from the poetry collection “Around the Month of July and Snow“, (Selected Poems 2004-2015), published in 2016 by “Gofteman Andeisheh Moasser” Press.