Written piece
Ode to Francesca
Sadiya Ali
United Kingdom
About this piece
This poem describes how I met my best friend. We grew up in Preston in the North West of England but met in Brussels where we both worked. Our friendship transcends culture, religion and class; we have remained firm friends and this year will be our 25-year friendship anniversary
Ode to Francesca
As The Towers crumbled
We sat in shock and awe
Barricaded, convening at night
To talk on our own woes.
Surviving the Millenium Bug
Only to be thrust
Into the quagmire
Of Euro politics.
We met amongst the curviest
Of Bruxellois buildings
The EU’s beating heart
And optimistic mind
You must meet her they said.
She’s from Preston they whispered
I trudged up the Art Nouveau stairs to
do my Lancastrian duty.
Smooth balustrades
Eased the journey to extroversion.
To call a brother home
Is a noble and selfish thing
On the top floor that foreign day
I met my soul sista, selfie clicker
Backstreet bistro frequenter and
Fellow chickpea-lover.
We met in Francophone cave-like cafes
Adorned with ancient puppets
Dangling from the ceiling
And dried berry wreaths shedding their leaves
We coaxed the stubborn chocolate
Out of the bottom of our
Too-warm mugs
And planned our next cultural immersion
We bust out Euro English
With panache
Navigating grammar casually
Like it was our own pig latin.
I had no inkling of what lay ahead
Life’s newest necessities:
Hot Vimto nights spent
Commenting on TV lows
Days at country houses
A shared love of beetroot platters
Experimental ballet
In a hushed auditorium
Less separated by birth
More joined by the kooks
Steadfast in our faiths
United by serendipity.
Friends came and left
Transient and missed
But she was always there …
Parcelling up her life
Swivelling on her chair and
Sneaking tuna sandwiches
Just like a good Prestonian
Should.