Pol Ndu

 Here again, worshipper,

I bend low and whisper:


when rain was gone

and sun over-spent hours

in violent evenings

hoes hung  brown on low eaves;


now pilgrim birds troop across the dimmed horison,

bereaved kites abandon smoky fields

into  tunes of frustrated loneliness


tell me, my sky – god,

what holds back the rain.


US - Africa Literary Foundation

Chimdi Maduagwu, PhD
Executive Director
US-Africa Writers Foundation
Dr. Bode Osanyin
Chairman, Department of Creative Arts
University of Lagos
Department of Creative Arts
Akoka, Yaba
Lagos, Nigeria

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