VidaKashizadeh

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When the wind got caught

in my ear

at the end of that summer

when sticking my head out of the window

of that twenty four hour train

back from Tehran to Abadan

the cotton wool she ironed

then putting it on my screaming ear

lulling, lulling, lulling my pain and fear.

So now

That I’ve got an ache in my grieved ear

I see her ironing a hand size piece of cotton wool

standing with me next to a train

in an indistinct station

it’s my memory

that subtracts

and abstracts

to get c lose to me

at the here and now

a timescale captured

in a photographic moment

of an aesthetic controllability

and there

lies the beauty

of her care

and one complete scene

made of many incomplete recalls

there

in that one scene

lies the beauty of her care.

* * *

Then

it’s me

squatting

dizzy

with anticipation

I’ve been dosed

with medication

defecating

but it feels different

I look

I scream a glassy scream

and that

brings her to me

with panic so sheer

she pulls the limp glossy white snake

out of my anus

and every cell in her

vibrates protection

her face is the perfect match

to my scream now fading

then the ascaris

is flushed away

leaving her in disbelief

over my small body as host

and the size of its beast guest.

And she is overwhelmed with pity

and I feel safe

within her shadow

and that’s

the beauty of her care

and that’s

my mum Malak

who is no more

except in my memory of her.

Vida Kashizadeh

19^th August 2001