The Village Dweller by Salmah bint Zakariyyah

The smooth pounded cocoyam

Red oiled vegetables with bush games assorted

Dances in ecstasy to the tunes

Produced by the rhythm of,

Cutlasses clashing against the greenish grass

Palmfruits sockets sucking out blood from the plucking hands

Shaking and grumbling hands filtering out the palmfruits' dirts

 

Then comes, redness lacing up the orange sky

Birds flapping in groups to secure their fronds made nest

Goats bleating around in search of their wooden pen

Mother hens scramble around their cackling chicks

The wavering cries of owls freaking out the entire village

The full moon illuminating the acute darkness

Accompanied by the deafening scream of the pounding pestle

The indiscriminate giggles of the gathered children

And scolding voices of mothers laying on the mats, their wards

Then comes the buzzling rhymes of mosquitoes

Serving as lullaby, stimulating sleeping morale

The long beak stings

Deeply, energizing the melatonin

Resulting in one rising with a throbbing head

Misty eyes and body as heavy as Everest mount.