The Last Glance

Is it allowed?
My finger traces the outline of which teacher’s face?
These subjects have too many questions
Is the entire world equal to one bullet?
The world has been dead
But the last glance has an amazing lesson
In the destiny of our hands
A butterfly stole my eyes
And lost them in the unavoidable blisters
Of lost streets
The familiar shadows warned me
The bird that flew
Stood by its birthday
Next to twenty-seven apples, mirrors and herbs
Next to twenty-seven tulips
Next to green moments
And constantly singing
I am alive
Believe me.

Author Photo of Azar Kiani

About the Author

Azar Kiani is a young poet living in Iran.