Iranian Flowers



Iranian Flowers


When books bleed and orchards flourish
it’s because their blood has watered the tree.

When confiscated pencils tiptoe
over broken glass the prison walls

become the choirs that chant the Holly Scriptures;
the just in every city take off their veils and dance.

When butterflies dance around a tear butchers run
for cover.  Their pestilence is overwhelming.

When angels sing, fifty-four red roses
get a world class education in prison.

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