Read Time:32 Second
The sun shone
Beside the bright moon
On the night
That his shrill cry
Swallowed
The cricket’s symphony.
Eyo!
Drops of rain
Drummed on rusted rooftops,
In solidarity
With the blood,
Dripping
From his severed cord.
Eyo!
His mother laughed
The laughter
Of Hebrew women
And his father’s smile
Mirrored the joy, tugging,
At the seam of his heart.
Eyo!
He came
With a shrill cry
Seeking teats
To quench his thirst-
For he did cross,
Fist balled.
Eyo!
The cub
Is now a lion –
Expect not a cry –
Tremble
At the roar,
Of that man Eyo!
