FOR MOTHER

Nene …the shadows are overgrown
this afternoon in my heart;
the burden of uncertainties assail me
with a feckless ravish-

I do not know whether to cry or laugh.

Each day saps me dry
of the red-green that you gave me
in ellipses of hope
to halo my dreams.

Mother, the weal
of your chalked-hand slap
tattoos my soul: your wish
that the phallic truth of my being
should sprout out of the smokes
that house it now.

But I am not at peace
with the flutter of selves
that dog my inside
—hiding in banana skins
—in the grief of many unknown things,
I am out of boat with my paddle,
… no one should owe me tears

I want to catapult my love
to you… through these thwarting gales
that toss my dreams to tatters. I want
to pay back in words
the wry story of the smile
that you glutted my lips with.
(Pardon me, if my sea is too shallow)

I wish I could re-live the sky
of my time of egrets
by giving you joy.

ODIA OFEIMUN