Hibah Shabkhez

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Just Saying

Pulling on scruffy, badly laced joggers
With savage triumph, I dig inky hands
Into the deep pockets of my tree-brown
Greatcoat, and across time’s unblurring sands
Stick my tongue out at the dark memories
Of grumps enforcing ladylike conduct.
I yodel my merry way to the shops,
Cheering because they cannot now deduct
Marks for running, nor take away my book –
     I’m just saying: adulthood sucks;
     But not all of it. Not quite all.

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Envy

Tree trembling in the chill autumn,
     Let your wheezing leaves fall,
          Your twigs splinter

I turn grey; you merely gold. Come,
     Drape your glorious shawl
          Of gilded rot.

Tree of branches bared by winter,
     Your spring will come again;
          Mine will not.

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Hibah Shabkhez is a writer of the half-yo literary tradition, an erratic language-learning enthusiast, and a happily eccentric blogger from Lahore, Pakistan. Her work has previously appeared in Bandit Fiction, Literati Magazine, Feral, Across The Margin, and a number of other literary magazines. Check out her Linktree here.