A poem by Jean Rafferty of Dove Tales.

The Little Book of Stars was a book about astronomy which was used in schools in Afghanistan before the Taliban took over.

Up here in the mountains the stars
are sharp as ice, a blizzard of lights
across the night sky. We didn’t
know they had names before the teacher
came. She told us of Aldebaran,
glowing red, and the blue mass
of Rigel. We see it now but soon
it will go forever, a black hole.

We are used to this.

She said out there beyond our mountains
there were women who sailed the stars.
Chaika, the first was called, Seagull.
Forty eight times she circled
the earth, scanning the blue horizon.
She was sick all the time but she looked
down at the earth’s luscious sheen
and she said the world was beautiful.

She never came here.

The boys all wanted to be astronauts
but I was the only girl.
I still have my Little Book of Stars
though I try not to look at it now.
My sister was angry. She tossed
her books away. Wake up,
she said. Useless to dream
of things we’ll never have.

There are many things we’ll never have.
Our brother says he’ll teach us what
he learns, but it’s just Koran, Koran,
Koran in the school now. Sometimes
at night I take my chadhor off
and sit on the roof to watch the sky.
It’s cool up there and I can breathe,
free of that hateful prison they make us
walk around in. But mostly we just make roti.

And the boys, they learn how to use guns.

Jean Rafferty is the author of Foul Deeds Will Rise. She is chair of Dove Tales.

Our regular poetry slot comes from Dove Tales, a registered charity which uses the arts to campaign for peace and against the increasing militarisation of our society

Dove Tales are always looking for contributions to their blog and online projects. To submit poems, stories, music or artwork email Jean Rafferty (fireopal.jeanrafferty@outlook.com).