Oghenebrorhie Ogboru

For Neme

The moon I sketch is a grieving heart
that had never beamed—- never
even to our ancestral river (Eziudo).

That confluence, where the kindred spirits

of Udeh & Okoli once drank from.

Neme!
Yours is like a sun whose rays did not peep
through the corners we never knew—

the corner beside the plantain leaves
where Eriama once lived till she dropped her bones,
& returned her dry flesh to mother earth.

Neme!
Mamie said death is a baby, it grips our hand
and leads us tenderly to the grave.
But your body misinterprets darkness for night,
& you waved us good night.

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