Picture courtesy www.bsmarkham.com
That perfect orange,
Haloed by a lighter shade
At half past 4
Till barely 6
Roaming the skies
Overlooking the smouldering savanna
Downed powerlines
The corruption of wooden electric poles, charcoal
Listen to the tinder
Dry shrubs
Listen to the
Thirsty trees
Dry grass in tears
The planting season has passed away
Dust in flight
Across the plains
Married to shoes
And parched soles
Listen to blind lanterns
Listen to parched lips
Listen to the dry land
Listen to tales of sands
Rain clouds eaten
Alive in their mother’s womb
Tales told by empty spaces
A constipated sky
Cemeteries of cornfields and
Cowpea litter the earth
Farmlands lost in dreams of
harvests gone by
A healthy helping of coughs cold
Itchy eyes and runny noses
Double bolted rabbit holes
And still-borne watering holes
Cows barter water
With buckets of milk
Barns and silos
Imprison grain
Hush….
Listen….
Listen…..
Shhhhhhh……
Just you listen,
These are the tales of harmattan
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