THE COMMUNITY GOOSE

None asked how much the moon’s death yielded
…him
None asked his needs
None even asked how he fared
All they needed were theirs
…and theirs
…and theirs
Adding anger to his fears
…of stepping on toes
…with his tired words

II
He was the community goose
…a gander given a womb of provision
…to lay in satisfaction of all
The
“…take this akyɛke
…have this pesewa
…I brought you this meal
…give this to your mother”
While he was in grooming had an end price
…he knew not

III
Then
Each came with their stomachs
…wanting their fill
When the moon died
All living and dead family members
All far and near neighbours
All old and young
All royals and their servants
He became the community goose
Who must lay satisfactory eggs
…to feed each and every one of his people

IV
But the moon’s death gave so little
…as a chalk holder
So many hawks got no chicks from his bosom
…talk less of fresh eggs to hunt
He lighted smiles and formed darkness
…on both known and unknown faces
And got many gifts in his modest bed
…from targeters who wanted him bounded by law

V
Protecting his man
…made him wander into different waist forests
…and planted many seeds
Compounding his problems
So he bought the rope
And wrote his piece before journeying

VI
When night reached the shores of dawn
And his face had not been shown
The womb that carried him felt strange
…and called the villagers
His letter was found
And the only other head following in his steps
…Yaa Kumiwaa
…the p.6 pupil
Read his gloomy tale of being the carrier
…of the village whose weight burdened his soul
They all run into the forest
…and formed groups to search

VII
The vultures led them to their sought
And they found him hanging
…tongue out of mouth
…weight on a branch
The guilty tree shamefully shook as if to protest any accusation of wrong
The people of Yɛdieɛ learnt too late
…after losing Kwame Kodie
That too much weight breaks even the toughest pot
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©Nov. 2, 2019

3 thoughts on “THE COMMUNITY GOOSE

  1. A lot of grown children…living off the lunar wind…Mama still feeds them…houses her biddies…hold them close to the nest…Thinking Mama has yet to give her best…But as moons fade…as tides wane & hearts wade…Her waters dry…for no matter how much we rely…Even Mamas die…did she love her children…leaving them helpless, nurturing their cry…RDR…peace

    Liked by 1 person

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