A Beggar at Heaven’s Door I kneel at your gate in the maiden winter, Near the cherry tree And the sycamore The painted fence And the lantern pole As they stand in their frozen languor. I think, stooped on these ragged knees of mine, What a callous cure is frost! And her house of numb, numb rest That never welcomes me. Last year and the year before My palms were cupped and dried But they were contained. Now they bleed and flail And stain your entryway. I watch the blood as it runs, Four rouge gullies in the gravel. Last year and the year before My call to you was unsteady, But it was civil, it was clear. Now it is unmoored; In the rain it cracks and splits With that mauve sky besieged. But your gate is yet unopened, And thus I kneel Through all these gelid nights.
Sakina Qazi is from Long Island, NY. She is currently a junior at the University of Miami, where she is Editor of Mangrove Literary Journal.