AUGUST AND NOVEMBER

Early this morning

You thought about how rain rhymes with pain

And judged your skills by the colour of your skin

1. You are a selfish farmer:

You planted maize and thought of harvesting melons.

2. Last night you slept early. I woke you up at midnight to count the stars

But you kept dreaming

You said:

Your father died thinking about the child in your mother’s belly.

“Why is my father’s house not yet complete?”

There’s an answer dying in your mind.

Rise!

—————

Poem © Okeke Onyedika Prezide

Image: Rose Erkul via Unsplash