Planting by Okogbule Wonodi

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Lights on the shore

that was our port,

that was our fort;

and wind swaying scenes

that we know

aside,

while the sea shells

stand aside,

season aside to make

mouths at us

birds on the stems,

pecking at the scare-crows

to call the farmer home,

who then shall follow,

with white shirts

the dance of his father

as tractors bite down

the yam god

and the squirrels skip about

making faces at us?

Stand

You that hate not

and praise not

these shifting scenes,

season and blow

the horn of Rebisi;*

that we,

who shall hear

the cock at night

and see the red snake at day

and they that shall follow,

bow not

when the sea shells

season aside

making mouths at us.