LITURGY
(For Kwame)
SON:
“And she sang mournfully
her voice shaking deeply,
regret mixing remorse,
sorrow with recollection.
She trembled,
the whole room trembled,
the door cried
the chairs bent slowly
looking for him
hoping for him
not seeing him.
Then we all went aside
splintered points to a circle
linked by a single cord:
sorrow, like the gray clouds
and we wept alone
together**”
Kwame N. 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
Archived from Nigeria Magazine, 1 January 1987.