Brushes a face by the side
With streaks of placid pecks,
Bad for the soul caught in flight;
And lampooned lips
In the brilliance of drought
The stretch of green leaves
Turning yellow, then brown,
Littering the ‘scape in sheer abandon;
Spectacular or beautiful?
The smell of summer!
Silent sights (sighs) of a servant-youth,
Anxiety flourishes, calls come in;
‘Are you any nearer?’
Distance is measured with time
(The road’s also a factor,
With empty pots, the season serving dusts charitably)
Ten tough hours, down the hills,
Through to the plains of the promised soil
…sailing south in summer
…To meet family
And friends, feast awhile
And fly away, again.
Written by: Anyanya Bassey
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.