Requiem For A Mother-In-Law Gone Too Soon – Part 7

Sonny,
it is easy for you,
cozily holed up
in the milky arms
of your blonde wife
in your Alpine
clime
country home
to bid us,
your grief-wracked
folk,
to control
our tears
for this cold-calculated
broad-daylight
uprooting
of the one great
and mighty soul
that held us
together
as a clan…
oh, hell, no,
I do not
intend
to control
my tears
which I shall
let flow
in torrents
with gales
and hurricanes
till they overflow
the banks
of the Frau,
till they sweep away
the Adomi Bridge
and all traffic
in the world
comes to
a standstill…
my people,
a great mishap
has befallen us,
I intend
to let
the whole world
know and
take an
indelible
note…
death came
and callously
snatched
the one sprightly
sprig of sunflowers
we owned
like a hawk,
I was
miles and
miles away
planting
corn seeds
on my farm
whose bounteous
harvest fruits
I have none
with whom
to gratefully
share;
yes,
I was miles
and miles and
miles away
trying to make
ends meet when
Mister Stiff
came swooping
like a hawk
and snatched
the most
precious pearl
from the cup
of my palms,
and you,
son of something
I cannot name,
you have the nerve
to bid me
control
my tears
as if tears
were water stored
in a kitchen tap
to be let on
and off
at whim…
don’t start me
you son of
something
I dare not
name
this ungodly
hour of dawn,
don’t force me
to turn off
the sluice gates
of my torrents
of tears
till I curse
the land
with a drought
that transcends
your ken,
till you wish
you had never
been born –
I was miles
and miles and
miles away
on that piece
of land
you gave me
and my kin,
Maafio,
trying to haul in
these tubers
of yams and
cocoyam leaves
for a
sumptuous
feast
when the Cursed One
came and
snatched you
the way chickens
get snatched
by a hawk,
and now
all my dreams
and wishes
are stuck
down
my throat…
alas,
I was far
off yonder
when the butcher
gripped
your throat,
wringed off
your neck
and cut off
your breath;
and now
all my dreams
and wishes
are stuck
in my
throat –
and now
all my dreams
and wishes
are wickedly
stuck
in
my
throat…
11/6/18

Author: Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr.

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