Past Present Future
all litters as i walk the dunes
and so i cry to sunlight,
the tree hides it in its roots,
to spring up its stem,
the settled sand of the hour glass.
i thought a while about the fish
in the sea,
zig zad,circles,
why do we walk in a file?
if only we could wipe those litters:
arrows that shatter the heart.
i draw a picture
cobs after lion,boys after man,
(the fields still greener ahead)
and i pinpoint a finish,
in the wide gullet of mother earth.
Copyright © Ikenna Uzomah | Year Posted 2006
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