WHAT I SEE
Lying alone under that sick Silent tree, awaiting his eve rose

WHAT I SEE

 

By Ridwan Bello, Kaduna [Nigeria]

Lying alone under that sick

Silent tree, awaiting his eve rose

To who shall pass by him without

Saying hello for old time’s sake.

From afar one could easily sight

His chaplet around his neck, covered

With green rag about his chest, right

Down to his knees, spreading up hand

Seem to wave the sky in a hollow space

Of one`s glance.

 

He holds onto a calabash to decide

Heavens fate in him, of this day pass

Saint`s if the sons of Max turns blind

Before an eye on young fit face

Standing, kneeling, setting, lying down.

Perhaps has no better chance to express

How grief is to man in his lonely thoughts

Beside that market tree.

 

Who shall give Jove back his blood?

He cries, Oo! Please give Jove back

His blood and flash, he cries, till the

Last sound revote’s not to rhyme,

He sighs and sigh hmm, hmm, ones more

He chant, who shall give Jove back his blood.

For here I stand, from death aroused

To have back my blood and flash.

©Ridwan Bello, Kaduna, Nigeria

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