Two poems by Shaira Afrida Oyshee

Growth

I grew up with pickle jars

giving out whiffs of aroma

With an aftertaste that said,

'I love you no matter what'

I grew past my grandmother's superstitions

And my first lover's promises.

I grew on muffled conversations

Carried out under the pillow

And outbursts of my opinion;

And I am still growing

Under the Melbourne Sky

This fast city with its quick accidents,

Spraying gray on suits and waxed heads,

Expensive tastes in tea and cigarettes,

And schedules deciding their day.

Bless these men, they fly kites of crystal!

Tie their shoe-strings to my turquoise cycle,

And let them know that their joints

Had slowly turned brittle

polishing someone else's gold.

Shaira Afrida Oyshee is a Bangladeshi poet and a student in Bachelor of Design, Melbourne.