
As the fires lick
Your dried fallen leaves
And bite into its bones
As it shouts in pain
II
I stand teary
Prompted by the smoke that it emits
With genuine fears of no protection from age
Shiverings! Oh shiverings!
III
Scary, how time only wears high heels
Making sure ears hear its footsteps
To force them into halls of panic
Scary! How leaves so young
Are consumed by the fire which savoured you whole
I now know the lighter is a mole
IV
I can’t believe you’re left in smoke and ashes
Can’t believe the sweetest being
Has turned into hurter of eyes
Passing rudely to join the clouds
Your vacuum can never be filled
And I wonder these goodbye-hands
Have a spectator in your smoke or ashes
V
It is a wonder that I can see not
The mole who lit you up
And awaits to pounce on my future
Bearer of my mother
Do create a peaceful ocean
Like you did for me on earth
So my burnt smoke can swim in
Like a free fish
In yonder years
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
4 replies on “WATCHING YOUR PASSING”
Reblogged this on Philosopher Poet with Dreams and commented:
Not sure of the meaning but I love the poetry of it.
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Thank you. Actually, it is an ode to my grandmother who happens to be dead. The thought that her remains might have been burnt with time, rekindled when I saw dry leaves burning, I thought she might have turned ashes and smoke and is gone to heaven but the pain form tears in my heart and tears to flow. I ended by asking her to prepare a good place for me, like she did on earth, a good ocean for my soul to bath in will be fine.
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It is beautiful.
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Thank you Gale.
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