by Owolusi Lucky
As flowers hurry to bloom,
So hurries florist to prune
Son of man races like Flax,
Like masons reveal the beauty of stones
After chirping away its early
Innocence, so have I watched
Petals unfold of many dames.
Like fishermen, I watched
Sons like sharks hunt tirelessly
In the sea of life and drumming of youth
Pounds like feet of buffaloes;
Many ended at the pointed end of death.
Time feasts like a hunter and returns men’s
Bones to earth.
“Though wisdom’s whistle calls
Dogs that shall be lost hearkens not.”
Earless young left their mother’s
Lap to roam the earth.
Bright sunflowers travel to the square,
Evening shall force it into the hands
Of cheap men.
Praise “the rose that tarries in concrete”:
For it brings hope to the hopeless.
About the author:
Owolusi Lucky is a Nigerian, he writes poetry, fiction, and non fiction.He has published or has work forthcoming in Noctivagant press, Crosscurrent, America Diversity Report, Afrorep, Decolonial Passage, Arkorewrites, Hallowzine, Scars publication, Sweety Cat Press (Poetry Anthology), Macromicrocosm, Dietmilkmag, Collegevilleinstitute, Overtly Lit, A Solarpunk anthology and others.
He shares his thoughts at: Africanmighty.art.blog