AFRICAN
DUSK
From
windows of solitude,
I
observe;
The solemn worshipper at the shrine
Kneeling in veneration to stoic figures.
Africa!
Unfurled
in the lights of dusk.
Across
the street,
A
church of worshippers
Aladuras in flowing garments Mad drums
throbbing in maniacal frenzy
To
ecstatic bodies.
In
the neighbourhood
The
shrill wail of a child
Solo
thin
Cuts
through the air
Answered
by a mother’s soothing voice.
Hand in hand, a pair of lovers In
cupid’s snares entrapped.
Perfume
the air with kisses
My
heart in envy bursts
For
that which I do not have.
In
the background
A
jungle of sounds
Nocturnal
creatures
Basking
in the euphoria of dusk
Amidst
mating cries.
In
that place of echoes
Nightbeings
in sobriety rise
Stoic
figures in cloakless cloaks
Goods
laden for the nightmarket.
The
air,
Pregnant
with sounds and beauty
Like
the lines of the poem
And
on this African dusk
All I
have is my solitude.
-Olumofin Subomi
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