Daughter — Gwyneth H. C. Dawes

DAUGHTER

There were no drums
no call upon the spirits,
no dance, no adinkras swirled
no antiphonal songs
no damirifas heard
no goat was killed,
no libations poured,
no celebrations for the
passing of the soul.
Away from the village of
her kin,
on caribbean shores
where two once played the tune,
she sang alone.

Gwyneth H. C. Dawes

EDITOR’S NOTE

Source: ArchiviNG (Nigeria Magazine, 1 January 1987). This archival presentation preserves the poem and its original attribution.

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