THE WHEREABOUT by Daud Ismail Olakunle

If I went on without a trace, just
Stare at the lines on your palms. They
Would portray my foot print that passed
Through them like a storm and the breeze.

If I went on without a trace, just
Look at the rays of that sun. They
Would picture my hairs and how
They became thinner in the air.

If you perceive that I've lost on
This surface of your earth, check your
Heart. You would find me perching at
A corner reciting you hope and give a pat.

If I went on without a trace, just
Ask the eagle on the corn-tree of
A country that swallows the men's tears;
Soaking them in the pool of their fears.

It would clatter its haggard wings
And croak that I left myself behind,
Wallowing in the ocean of peace;
Preaching hell for their brutal deeds

If I went on without a trace. Ask
The eyes that stay bleak and dark. The
Mouths that remain mute and mumbled. The
Legs that stand still and stiffen. The bodies
That sound thud and numb. Their lies
That fake dreams and blur.

© D.O Isma'eel