Sheena Blackhall Poems
Comments about Sheena Blackhall
I can't imagine dying in this land.
The neighbours here have doors graffiti-red
‘Why are you brown? ' another pupil asked
‘I think because my folks are brown, ' I said
Out on our landing, someone's dumped a bed
I dream in Hindi. I don't understand
The baby words in English in my school book
At games, or dancing, no one takes my hand
I miss the smells of curry, frangipani,
The steaming chai at Delhi's teeming stalls
The cooking fires. I even miss the sewers
The thieving monkeys with their chattering calls
I miss the temple incense, the bright ...
The eleventh day of October.2.30pm
After months of fertility treatment
Hormone boosting and tinkering
Injections and pills
The culmination approaches
Mode of delivery, induction.
A suppository. A syntocin drip