Hushed! A poem by Shiva Moghaddasi I hear you. I hear your hushed voice. I feel your pain and pained myself, at being far away, unable to help, when you needed a hand, an ear, a shoulder. I hear you, I hear your hushed cries, fists, and tears. As clear as the nightingale's song. Lest you be alone, sister, lest I forget your cries for help. ________________ Toronto Fall 2017 |