If/ a new poem by mahnaz Badhian

We could be different
if only it did not happen this way.
We could be sitting in that little garden house
that our father built with red bricks years ago.
I could see you next to the apple trees, touching
its green, unripe apples with excitement

We could be different if only it was different and
did not happen the way it happened.
My brother would be in the garden with us helping father
gathering dry, broken branches to start a fire
and his son would be able to pronounce my name !
It could be different if only,
things did not happen the way it happened
and I could call you on mother’s day to tell you
how much I loved the orange pants you had knitted
for me when I was only a child, and tell you
how it feels to be in menopause !
But the things are different,
because it happened different
I had moved to a place far from our garden
I have left my moon on the other side of the sky
and it took me years to find a taste of a new apple
in the host garden.