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Hailflake by Hibah Shabkhez

In Quasimodo's jostling stone-cobbled street

From the gulls' wings upon the river's soft thrum

Through the colombes around the clochard's feet

The stray flake of hail flits lurchingly down to me

A little button of water, all stolid and blythe

A gift of water borne by the wind that will be

Slicing through the brown sherlock-coat like a scythe


In the wind, in the sleet, in the drizzletty rain

Flutters the soul that the sun spurs to pain

The screen-burnt eye looks into the grey sky

Where steel birds stir cloud-firni as they fly

And whispers: "Paimana bideh ke khumar astam."


Originally published in Brine Literary, 2018


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.

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