When Death Comes

You play with people's heart
And forget that the heart can break
And at the Pennsylvania station
Mirrors reflect the strangers
Who will apart

When death comes
The rose petals -blown on the white pages
Followed by a plant of faithfulness
And a period of quiet
Will be sketches of a life not fully written

The frozen poetry
Or the color of dense smoke
In a New York bar
And Moscow club meetings
Worn on yellow pages of a comrade
Are just some old-fashioned storybooks
Thirsty to fly

Stepping off the station
You realize the endings
Remain with you for several days

It is true if you still think of me
When throwing the log fire and the yellow pages
Drop by drop making habits out of the inevitable action

Make one in marble
In either nature or man
As far as the eye can see
On the snow -not really knowing yourself

You wasted such a long walk to die!

Sheema Kalbasi