my cycle tube was hurt, i had to go the old style.long kilometres, steady, my foot finally said hito the farm. the sun became angry as soon as my machete kissfew weeds, the season commencing, again. suddenly, the sunny sky spoke in tongues asthe firmament strike a chord, it was Read more…
The hand of the sun was not heavy enoughTo light the pack of dreams I shelteredIn the manor of my mind.I scribble on some leavesWhat I want tomorrow to tellOf me. Yesterday is late, it diedAt the zero-zero hours, yet,I still burn unperturbedA candle, surviving in the wind.
O Amon,I desire you to smile for meCrouching in my arm like an eggIn a nest, cackling to my faceWhile the sun passes byTo roost. My garden is barrenThe first I cultured didn’t blossomBad soil, no manure, and light. & you, but I fearIf another farmer has come earlier.Am jealous Read more…
