i am plucking a few pale stars
to braid the tale of a sky.
there are times i scour for home
like the first time i saw fire
quenching light. i woke up
to see father’s chest stuffed with
muzzles, mother managed to hold
her breaths to bid us farewell as
she withered in flames.
home is not at home,
because we are water cooked into
pebbles, because we don’t know how
to mourn, because the memories
haunt, we carry the photographs
of our loved ones, we calligraph
their names on walls,
bury flowers beneath scenes
where sand is rubbled bodies,
reminisce the light of lost heroes
in the sun and recall silenced voices
in the stealthiness of the moon.
my friend, Abu, did not die.
in a murky scene, his body blazed,
emitted flames, then smoldered
like he never existed
Things Fall Apart
City of Smoke
here, our bodies are rainstorms
and we fall heavily dropping
with ice—never white, sometimes
we are spillage of crimsoned
liquid that putrefies the earth
because, we can not find home at home.
Etudaye MA is a graduate of Bayero University, Kano where he studied B.Sc.in Mass Communication. He hails from Okene LGA in Kogi State. To him, writing is a great passion, the only way through which real freedom can be achieved. His interests lies in writing, community development, social advocacy and impact through teaching. Etudaye presently lives in the ancient city of Kano where he writes from. His works have appeared on Daily Trust, Afripost, TheCampusWatch, Quenu and others.