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How Lucky Persimmons Are H PARINAZ ELEISH I look out the window From the corner of one eye, Past the benches and the lonely crows. The persimmons still hang quiet and lucky, When all else smells of decay. I touch my grandmother’s hands, Hold her love in my eyes When I know it won’t last. How lucky persimmons are And the stillness of the leaves, The silent breeze passing Through the curtains. The streets are empty, The pavements breathe with heat I long to hold on. But know with time, The clock tower will crumble, Babies will go thirsty And the pools will grow trees. I see from behind My father’s shoulders The neighbor’s son writing His name backward On the fogged window. When all else is quiet I read it silently— HOW LUCKY PERSIMMONS ARE 211 It doesn’t take long. My breasts are hurting, And my brother’s off to war. How thoughtlessly beautiful the persimmons Feel in the bloody dusk. I long to hang from a tree Watch my grandmother pray in the shade. For even one more day. 212 PARINAZ ELEISH ...

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