By: Yash Seyedbagheri

oh, country road, you carve out
streams sparkling, whispering a hushed
journey along hillsides, up and down
water glimmering in the sunlight
and even in gray shadows
while the toilet paper disappears
into selfishness, you whisper your whooshing hush

while the elderly and infirm are trampled by selfishness
it’s necessity, conscience insists, while you soft spring rains fall
and puddles form
swirling rings, concentric creations
one ring atop another, plop, plop, pleasant
while anxious souls from other counties take
refuge and the soft plop of raindrops in the puddles

while, you, lady evening
burst in pinks and whites
lavender and gold
and the lights flicker their butter-colored glow
moon rising triumphal, yet beatific
you are a lady in spring’s white lace
and there’s nothing

but vastness, so vast
and I hug you all,
no six feet of distance required