Poetry

A Map in Sheffield

Should you come to my house

don’t follow

those rational mediums of navigation

they mislead you to a wrong alley

trust me

follow the seductive trail of the River —

the Styx among the dead—

in the old cemetery

and listen as the Lip splashes a secret:

my home is unorthodox

it has an incredible capacity

for self-deception

every day it rotates the balcony

and zooms in the sky

to frame the image of an uncaring cloud

how oblivious is my home

how easily lost…

look at the map

from the river

to the gothic tower

the abandoned grave of  my brother

and Mr Montgomery’s

my childhood memories    

the sky

the cloud

the pigeons

the Star in the corner

of Washington Road

the bus stop

yesterday

tomorrow

all spin around

in a nostalgic excursion in Sharrow

like an amateurish montage in a foreign film.

should you come, friend,

don’t mind the incongruity

take your time

home has learned the lesson

it surrenders to the gravity.

Shirin Teifouri

© 2014