New poem by Seun Kolade

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I wanted to wet this tree
Change its shape from fig to free
I thought it looked like four or fork
But it didn't.
It looked like hands.
A single, lonely hand.

Standing beside it was another hand.
Well,  greased hand with
A partner in hand.

They were both under
The bright moon
That was shinning in the dark night.
A fig tree and a free tree
With green leaves

The wind blew and some leaves from the green tree touches the fig tree

The fig tree thought it would soon be free but it forgot that it was a fig tree.

An ornament could not make it free.

© Seun Kolade