Night of Bully (1)
The day was of spring,
Very warm and damp
The sun shone fitfully
A day that harbors with it brightness
It was a night that carries no signal
Owl was not in sight
Neither was its voice heard
But it was a night of the owl
It speaks ominous dialect
Utterly different from the day’s language
Its parlance we could not understand
It was a night of bully.
Alayande Stephen T.
August 3rd, 2008
11.38pm
At the Kitchen Republic,
NYSC Camp, Yikpata, Kwara State.
Copyright © Alayande Stephen | Year Posted 2008
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