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Omen


I require an omen, a signal
I kyan not work this craft
on my own strength

alligator teeth
and feathers old root and powder

I kyan not work this craft
this magic black
on my own strength
Dahomey lurking in my shadows
Yoruba lurking in my shadows
Ashanti lurking in my shadows

I am confused
I lust for guidance
a signal, a small omen
perhaps a bird picking
at my roof

*

All is silent now
silent the fields
silent the canes
silent the drum
silent the blades
silent the sea
turning back to silence
a fatalistic rising siletnce

What's that sound? What's that flame?

Written by Grace Nichols

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Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge