Sitting in the past with the wrinkled
As my time’s stars stood in the greenest twinkle
I heard of eyes, potent in closure
Even in most secluded holes
Seeing hectic moles who fates stole
In the near tomorrow
The near tomorrow which garnishes my feet today
Yet I laughed like a wise soul hearing the voice of the foolish
II
Running in the past with the “cruel”
A cane spoke of love with corrective scars
In gift of a future with no blemishes
Maame nodded and applauded her brother
Papa got another to join in
All eyes sparkled
Hands clapped
I felt like a Jesus never welcomed in his own home
The present now looks at the past with glee
Gifting its long gone hands unmeaningful late handshakes
III
I dined with the past whose children had ears
Soft ears
The past whose children had no mouths
In elderly presence
I dined with the past where young ones vanished
Like myths in elderly visitations
And did feed respect on plates of good upbringing
Nana would cry in happenings of today
Watching through spectacles of ancestorhood
Glad I have no lenses to see his countenance
IV
I wonder where all the magic canes of path direction went?
I marvel at the hard ears with sharp mouths
Which toddlers clutch as blessings
I wonder how words put together to protect
Handcuff wills to correct
I wonder
I do wonder how far this belly’s fruit would go with its generation
In madness of rights
What I see in closed eyes of the future
Hell fire so heatedly hazy
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 17, 2018
3 replies on “DEAD CANES IN KUKUBALI”
Whimsical
LikeLiked by 1 person
Happy New Year, Mum C. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Happy New Year Aunt Celestine. Bless you plenty.
LikeLike