Where I Was Born

My village is
Swallowed by hills
With spurs, barren granite slabs
Valleys and green canopies
Of abandoned forests.

The contour of some
At a point looks like a rooster
But the coxcomb is
A cloud of mixed hues
Bearing those rains
That make the hills
Always weep and my village wet
Here at the foot of the hills
This is where I was born.

by Tony Adah

Comments (1)

You came to this world seeing beauty of nature and played on the lap of it..ye the lucky guy I will remember because my place is now big city with unknown faces