Mostafa Sarabzadeh Poet Free verse

Rafah's Dolls

Pick out only one doll,
the one you love the most of all,
and another one for your younger sister who weighs less than to know how to choose, 
My mother used to say when I was a child. 

I chose and ran away, but I returned.
When I grew up, my mother still used to say the same thing,
I chose again, ran away
and again,
I returned. 

Now, amidst Rafah's today's bombardment guested on our home, 
I knew I had to leave, but neither is a mother shouting from a dark inflatable boat,
nor any dolls to choose from.
All that remains is an Alzheimer's house
whose rooms have forgotten that I am grown up,
and all of my dolls are dead.

A house that is still waiting
for someone to return
to their own land
and plays with dolls
until the next morning.

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