HARMATTAN                       

Gay lads squat with sour eyes

Like drenched owls and bats

To watch the birth of the young sun

Mouths clatter in reverence

Bodies quake with fright

Luster flees many skins

And rebel heels get the slash

I see you, mirthful spirit,

Riding on cornfields

In the meandering dance of the ostrich

I see you, just ruler,

Stripping dressy plants

To coat helpless animals

Under your spell I grow old

In your eyes I ride through time

Through the joy of innocence

the pride of youthful exploits

the pain of severed love

the gloom of inactivity

In your hisses I hear the clock’s clicks

And the approach of nature’s train

To take me home

FROM A DIEING MAN 

Surely I must die

I've walked life's long aisle

in all I walked tall

I've sat at life's table

decked with sweet and sour bowls

now to the great Gate I come

which yields to the Golden Sun.

Surely I must die

airy hands pull on my rudder

the ship bellows

the tide swells

and the wind roars

than cry, say "goodbye"

for your tears are handicapped

to liven my worn soul

though to charge a still heart

they hold hotter words than mouths.

Surely I must die

teach my seeds to hold the course

and tell how I strived

to mend the world with words;

omens often fail

and dreams are flatterers

beware when roses smile

or adders wish to kiss your heels

in a show of love

for they rarely show the swords 

behind their lurid gowns.