On this mango tree, I built my nest
Where little beings like me
Play hide and seek,
And retreat to whenever the ground becomes hot.
Under this mango tree, I laid eggs,
Played the role of a father,
And harboured precious germs in my nails
Trying to feed my presumed children.
My uncle is building a house
And his bulldozer
Is at the corner
Taking hold of my memory (like a virus)
With its wicked fangs, forcing it down
Like a captured enemy.
Saturday, 13 February 2016 21:27
The Mango TreeBy Akpa Arinzechukwu
Akpa Arinzechukwu is a Nigerian born poet, his works have appeared or will feature on Eastlit, Poetry Portion, Visual Verse, Poetry Pacific and elsewhere.
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