At Forlorn Days

By Ezekiel Angela Iyeh

Birds sang porch songs
no more when the earth
swallowed a woman, a
heart as sweet as melon.
Stillness framed the hearts
of her sons and daughter.
Dawn came wobbling, like
the rolling of pages in the
wind, summoning the spirit
of sorrow with dark clouds
as light glowed away like
fading stars in the sunrise.
Whispering wind came to
muted tongues seeking
for a song. Quiet grew
into a man to behold
many more days, happiness
became a stranger for
all the other days.