The Blinding White

By Salma Hussain

Shortlisted for the 2026 "London" Literary Prizes in the Canadian Poetry category

My sister /       the older one / the one not estranged from our mother/       the one who continues to / play peace-maker
is the one to deliver the news – / “How is the weather in Toronto?” She begins / “Are you inside? / Can you sit down?” /
 
I sit / She delivers /
the news
 
I /
abandon the phone / screen down /
on the kitchen counter & /
prepare to leave the house
 
The dog / uncharacteristically compliant / puts each paw forward for his tiny dog booties / Stands still and silent by the front door as I lace my winter boots /
 
We step outside / & find /
everything white
 
The dog / still / uncharacteristically obedient /
 does not pull at the leash /     He cocks his little head /        at the streetlight / the squirrel the neighbour’s dog and / we walk and walk / until / our faces meet the edge of lake / The waves lash / at the air / choppy and wild / Howling and cross
 
You were a child when / the air raids screamed / the walls shook / the bombs fell / You army crawled under your father’s charpoi / tears and snot smearing your face each time / You married to escape / The I.U.D. failed you twice / Every doctor spoke to you like you were a provincial sheltered cloistered / little / muslim woman / An angry white woman screamed at you / pointing her middle finger / Go back to / when you took too long parallel parking and I / slid down the passenger seat / embarrassed and mortified / of you / You wore the same purple winter coat from Goodwill / for a decade or so / until finally I / tore it from its hanger and ran into the inky night / “I bought you a new one!” / I ran giggling and disappearing into darkness / You loved white fish / Always welcomed me home with a plate of cod and sumac / lemon and olive oil /
 
On the uphill climb back / the dog skids and slips / loses his footing then his booties /
The white glistens /
blankets us into sameness /
            We squint /
our eyes contracted / blinded / the entire long cold quiet walk home

---

​Salma Hussain writes poetry and prose, and her writing has appeared in various literary magazines. Her debut chapbook of poetry, What If Maybe & Other Poems, was published by Baseline Press last summer. Her upcoming young adult novel, It's Not Over Yet, will be published by Penguin Random House Canada later this year. She lives in Toronto.