Night
The dead
Night is come spooking
Through the lungs of
Fissured souls trammeled
Up to the popcorn limbs.
We waited awed as
Sun beats upon
Night of darker things.
The children play drums
Summoning unborn spirits
And ghosts who in flower
Spent up their blood of age.
Alas! Our gaze is naked,
Is broken in the frail sun.
And purblind we drop upon
The Locusts licking up our
Bones and voices
We pull you night
From the skeletal grave
To shroud over us
From the bats and bees.
Francis Annagu have been published in Galway Review, Ayiba Magazine, Tuck Magazine, Potomac Review, Kalahari Review, Poems and Poetry, Commonline Journal, Sunflower Collective, WRR, Lunaris Review, Novel Afrique, ThePoetsCommunity, PIN and Black Pride Magazine.
He lives in Kaduna, Nigeria.
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