Abiku

mama

licked her oily tears,

gently,

and her memories too.

it is yet another season

 to grope

through the corridors of yesterdays

with careful steps

and count all lost laughters

with the fingers of time

here i am,

shrouded with the laughters

is this white apparel not long rolls

of randy laughters?

papa

sighs - deeply

and shrugged his wide shoulders

eyes reddened,

face sulky,

but tears refused

to wet his sight

an old man does not cry 

he only bleeds

in silence. 

but now papa could not forbear

as iron memories roll over him

he sighs again

and remember his lost treasure

here, i am

in the midst of the treasure

are these hungry tears

not mounds of resplendent treasures?

once again,

i see this house with leaking roof

fallen walls,

broken windows,

i treasure to see -

these romping roaches

playing hide-and-seek

in our naked rooms

they all sweeten my tongue

seeing this hut

papa built a decade ago

shrink into fine million pieces

Now, as i leave them

i know mama's griefs would not end

but i love to feed on pebbles of griefs

for griefs are sweeter than the honey of bees

Oh, griefs are sweet!

***********

Kẹ́hìndé Adédéjì, a young poet and writer who lives in Ibadan.