NIP OF DAWN: PAPA

 

papa would say
my morning rose laraba
the moon of the dark night

papa, in your absence
boring insects drill holes
in my once effulgent

petals, your morning
rose is ruffled, she is
being defoliated by the

evil hands in the forest,
sucking insects seep out
the dreams of your morning

rose, they pollinate her
with rotting stench, her
fragrance stinks, nectar

tasting like gall
papa, the night is scared
she cries all the dark

night, she says my drooping
darkness casts those shadows
you see tonight on the moon

 

Oluwafemi Babasola employs poetry and his short stories to express his thoughts and beliefs about life, the inequality in the society and emotions of the heart. He lives in Osogbo, Nigeria.

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