Grey Hair – Hibah Shabkhez

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Each grey hair I grow has powers unknown
To all but the torchlight that never blinked
In the storm that unlit our beacons, thrown
Into darkness by the ardour that winked

And sputtered hope. All the while that serene,
Stolid tube of trapped and vapid light stared
On, through the thunder, at the drowning green
Faces and porches standing almost bared

Of their ramparts of privilege. But dare
We raise cold grace to the rank of the hiss
Of log-fires, of candles’ need to care
For us? Do we forget to treasure this?

Better to feign and mourn a Love unfelt
And sneak, secretless, into a sphinx’s pelt

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 Zin Daily, Litbreak, Broadkill, Rising Phoenix, Big City Lit,

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