Weals from the Rain
“What ear to our sobbing hearts?” -Birago Diop.
We lost them–
our brothers that darted outside
to set the drums to the catchment
& never returned.
Yesterday night,
we longed for rain on our roofs.
& it rained–it rained cats and dogs.
This morning,
Our verandah was lost
in the flood of blood.
“Blood is libations
that cleanse your roofs,
& appease the gods of golden waters.”
said the village priest.
Alas, for our brothers
who now live only in our dreams,
no grain of wheat to hold our hopes,
nor there a rain to water our mouths–
their deaths on our bodies
are weals from the rain.
Tonight,
we dread longing for another rain,
but again,
the sky is ready to strike us
with her cold, long & tiny hands.
“What ear to our sobbing hearts?”
Yesterday macerated our hopes.
Tomorrow’s deeds are lurking in the sky.
Contributor’s Bio
Arikewusola Abdul Awal writes from Oyo state, Nigeria. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Ila magazine, Willi wash, Teen Lit journals, Literary Yard, The Yellow House, Thirty Shades of Roses Anthology, Broken chunks of hearts, World Voice Magazine, and elsewhere. He has participated in many poetry contests on social media (Facebook) and won certificates of excellence.
When he is not writing, he is found reading or watching movies. You can reach him via [email protected].
