By Mary Oluwakemi Shorun
Sunday, February 6, 2011.
Both hands clasped together, that time of ties
strong outlook into the universe, clinging like a second skin
mind the lips, its moving up and down
only utterances coated in piety
suffer not to sacrifice - as heartfelt as it is
twenty young ones, twenty years: impossible
there will come a time, sometime
the cherished endings, omo 'ya
remember to keep them, in poignancy and gaiety
never let those slip away, O those family ties.
When we bubbled through
aves - man made - atop
and smaller ones beneath, unseen
the clouds stood still and white
the ground, a labyrinthine mess
yam tubers and groundnuts
winds blowing from across
south of the Sahara
Of Africa and its west
of harmattan and rich brown filth
in the riches of the Savannah
random earth openings
cracking up in thirst
miniature "earthquakes" here and there
citizens happy and content
despite poignant moments!
Finally, shrill wails of doorbells
lightings on and off
known sounds of brown bats -
and also - black winged warm-blooded chirping
sucking plantain dripping liquids dry
bodies enshrouded in warm hugs
of long lost craving ones: the roots
it is good to be home.
Mary Oluwakemi Shorun was born and grew up in Kwara state, Nigeria. Her short fiction and poems have been published in Sentinel Nigeria and TIG Panorama Zine. She lives and studies in Texas, USA.