40
Tehran
Last time I went to Tehran, the city of my birth
I called it: 'a desert city, full of dust covered with dirt'.
My sister complained, she was hurt.
But it was dusty, untidy and full of dirt
It bore no resemblance to the city of my birth
Having said that, I knew different
Although, the beautiful mountains were still there,
The tree lined streets everywhere,
The city was deserted by everyone I loved
Empty of everything for which I cared.
Azadi Tower, Tehran ,Iran
Perhaps it was not the desert city, but the deserted one
It was still the city I knew as beloved Tehran.