Waiting for My Turn

        By Majid Naficy

After two weeks of staying at home
I go at dawn to the street again
For stair-climbing.
The stairway has been boarded up.
There is no one on the street
And only the wind talks with leaves.
I remember that year when in Tehran
My comrades were shot one by one
And buried without any gravestones
In the Cemetery of the Infidels.
First was Sadeq,
Who had a charming smile.
I visited his grave with Ezzat.
Second was Ezzat,
Who had passionate eyes.
I visited her grave with Hossein.
Third was Hossein,
Who had strong hands.
I visited no other graves,
Escaped from one house to another
And finally crossed the border.
But now where can I escape
From this world-wide pandemic?
This time I must stay home
And wait for my turn.

        March 29, 2020    
https://iroon.com/irtn/blog/15123/waiting-for-my-turn/