Author: Aaliyah Angir

By Aaliyah Angir

One day, Sir changed the seating plan

somehow we’d fallen into girls on one half, and boys on the other.

I didn’t know what to do, I was left alone at a table.

But then you,

My friends were blushing cherry red, to have an excuse to sit with their crush!

But I was left alone on the other side of the classroom,

with you.

I let you copy my notes; let you copy my work, my jokes.  

Because I didn’t know what to do with you.

I guess in a way, I saw you as more of a hindrance.

I guess in a way, I’ve always known.

Featured Image: Rajiv Salunkhe

 

By Aaliyah Angir

 

Plough on, plough on 

into the night 

the fledgling calf 

driven on by

the farmer’s might 

 

Plough on, plough over 

the pungent fright 

ripped from her

mother 

no time to fight 

 

Plough on, plough on 

the bitter taste 

of cold iron,

metallic blood

the farmer’s haste 

 

Plough on, plough in 

to biting cold 

empty expanse

till flesh grows old 

plough on.

 

 

Featured Image: Thérèse-Marthe-Francoise Cotard Dupré, Dans le clos de la ferme. Musée des Beaux-Arts Jules-Chéret, Nice.