Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
Question
Angled sunbeam lowered
like Jacob's ladder through
sky's peephole pierced in the roof
to my silent floor and bared feet.
Are these your creatures
these crowding specks
stomping your lighted corridor
to a remote sun, like doped
acrobatic angels gyrating
at needlepoint to divert a high
unamused god? Or am I
sole stranger in a twilight room
I called my own overrun
and possessed long ago by myriads more
as yet invisible in all
this surrounding penumbra?
Written by Chinua Achebe (1930-2013)
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