In the midst of the Tehran blitz
There is a grosser I often chat with, on my way from work,
a veteran with tales of the long war, and his own heroics of ferrying food to the front and
carrying the wounded on the stretcher, drenched in blood, until a nerve bomb knocked him unconscious for months.
But when the American and Israeli bombs started turning our city block into an inferno,
he rushed to a hiding but kept the store open with a sign that read, take what you like, pay later. War discount ten percent.
This is a city of courage,
a haven from fear,
a warrior city,
unreconciled to humiliation and defeat,
a sanctuary of faith,
a mosaic of independent wills to resist.
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