NEW-LIVING
SAM ONWUKA
Hopping on light feet over twigs over hoes, stretching
To the wharf I will go from.
AH! Hastening as if pursued, hunted by the wiles.
The sound of laughter
Across the hilltop
The distant resonance of drumbeats ever receding
I come in all fury
Following the signature
Picking from the heap, time burnished relics.
New-living. What then is there?
A manifestation of new desires?
Vision of wider seas meeting the sky’s end.
The itch is great while the others go
The itch is great
While the others go, splashing saltwater on a bank-reed.
Editor’s note: First published in Nigeria Magazine, Sunday, March 1, 1970. Source: Archiving.