"The Snow Promises" by Hibah Shabkhez

The Snow Promises

True winter does not make you dream of spring
Only of more snow. Snow on the leaves, snow
On branches becoming sliced coconuts.
On gate, on grass, on every single thing —
Snow — piercing, blinding, glorious. You grow
Roots. The snow promises to live on, shuts
You off from the gold threads spilling over
The rims of clouds, from the returning sun —

This is decline refusing to cower —
Blazing so with life, it unshackles one
Part of itself from its own fall, and lives
On, in the relentless yearning it gives
You, for snow, snow, snow.

Hibah Shabkhez

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 Black Bough, Zin Daily, London Grip, The Madrigal, Acropolis Journal, Lucent Dreaming, and a number of other literary magazines. Studying life, languages, and literature from a comparative perspective across linguistic and cultural boundaries holds a particular fascination for her.
Linktree: https://linktr.ee/HibahShabkhez.

Headshot: Hibah Shabkhez

Photo Credit: Staff