The Breeze Of A New Dawn

Half closed eye lids
Racing winds caress my little pinnas
And dries the spittle on my lips
Fresh dew on plants and cold sands air waft'd
The silent praise of the trees
And the unending songs of the birds.

The dead lizards of yesterdays
Below the fence
a solitude whistle from an old palmwine tapper
Sight of frail figures, basket of goods
Swallow their thin flimsy necks
On a match to the market
To begin the day with the leftovers of yesterday

Crow of a r ooster
And first grretings from a neighbour
The breeze cold making the hairs on my skin rise from their slumber
And drawing more of the scented air to my nose

The refuse of yesterday at the door step
Bring with it memories of the days gone
But the gust of a new dawn
Sweeps it all away

by uchenna nnodum

Comments (1)

This is a wonderful piece on the start of a day, wonderfully pictured.