Page 17 of Collected Poems

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wrapped up in leaves

of cocoyam…. What song shall I

sing to you my love when

a choir of squatting toads

turns the stomach of day with

goitrous adoration of an infested

swamp and purple-headed

vultures at home stand

sentry on the rooftop?

I will sing only in waiting

silence your power to bear

my dream for me in your quiet

eyes and wrap the dust of our blistered

feet in golden anklets ready

for the return someday of our

banished dance.

Love Cycle

At dawn slowly

the Sun withdraws his

long misty arms of

embrace. Happy lovers

whose exertions leave

no aftertaste nor slush

of love's combustion; Earth

perfumed in dewdrop

fragrance wakes

to whispers of

soft-eyed light….

Later he

will wear out his temper

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