Poetry & Prose : THE DEAD FOREST BY THE NILE

THE DEAD FOREST BY THE NILE

I cried yesterday into the sun
Like a stray dog, pure with hunger.

I prayed yesterday into the rocks
Like a shaken lizard, wan with revenge.

I surmised from your smile that
Forests can forsake huntsmen, even.

I reached yesterday into your dry pockets
Like a hapless urchin, wet with innocence.

I pored yesterday into your eyes
Like a battered orphan, drunk with pain.

I surmised from your grimace that
Houses can forsake builders, even.

I groped yesterday into the night
Like a stolen child, heavy with longing.

I raced yesterday into the dust storm
Like a sorcerer, armed with ploughs

And I surmised from your cackle that
Africa, too, can forsake Africans.

by Ishmael Fiifi Annobil  (10 Dec 2005, 12-48am)
Illustration: Whirl, by the author