Somewhere

This is something I wrote in 2003 not long after leaving Scotland, missing Matthew my husband, my friend, my soul-mate. We were casualties of a government bureaucracy.

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She lies in a soft bed of sweet summer grass
gazing up at the stars as memories of him tug at her 

tucked tightly under a blanket of want and loneliness

with silver moonbeams dancing across her face

thoughts of him glow like burning ashes floating up towards the heavens

she wonders where under the stars does he lay his head?

and does he grieve for her as she grieves for him?

somewhere, far away,  under the stars….

He lies in a soft bed of sweet summer grass
gazing up at the stars as memories of her tug at him

tucked tightly under a blanket of want and loneliness

with silver  moonbeams dancing across his face

thoughts of her glow like burning ashes floating up towards the heavens

he wonders where under the stars does she lay her head?

and does she grieve for him as he grieves for her?

P. Najafabadi

2003

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