My Father

My father can't stay on the phone for long 
That's why I don't want to call home
This is a strange stubborn father, never use a cell phone 
I get  a headache just by insisting, I do
but can't change his opinion regarding that.

I like to hear my father's voice so much! 
Thick, full voice, my father, 
Age has made that voice more mature, 
heavier. 
As a memory of my father, that voice is true to me 
Living  so far from the country, when life is frustrating and 
unable to bear the responsibility of failures, 
sometimes I really want to run away to my 
father in those memorable old days. 

Just as the whiteness of a “Kafan” 
awakens a strange pain inside you, only you 
Everything on earth seems meaningless, 
Suffocated time only reminds you then 
time to call your father may have passed yesterday!

There is busyness in the days abroad, days 
Where there is a calendar of work-tired hours
Everyone is rushing to that work 
Some are expressive, 
some are suppressed by the irony of destiny.
 
Father was coughing a little while talking yesterday 
"Are you doing fine, father ?" I asked.
"It’s okay my girl, what else at this age! No more excuses !" 
That's the end of the sentence. In his own infallible rules.

Engrossed are in many memories of father 
My head, my brain, and even my heart, deer me!
memories of millions, of thousands of people like my father 
Tell me how it will be to write a book about that!
Maybe not bad!

Note : Kafan : (noun) burial garment

April 21, 2021
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace