The Whistling Trees

By Aihimegbe Samson

The hunters laid siege on the forest
They thought the games would come
They heard voices and couldn’t rest
Fumbling at the gun turn by turn

Did you hear that quirk and quack
The old hunter listened and said
That could be a wild duck pack
That missed their way instead

But rhythm came from odd branches
From trees with the leaves of sopranos
Odd branches clanging in desolate solos
So the hoary hunter briefed his fellows

Aihimegbe Samson is a playwright, short story writer and poet. Last year, one of his African Plays, “Queen Iden of Benin,” and Collection of Poetry, “A Dance of an Imago,” were approved by the Edo State Education Board for Junior Secondary Schools in his native country, Nigeria. Aihimegbe Samson now resides in the United Kingdom and has recently completed his latest poetry collection: The Egret and Other poems.