first you hear that boom

in the distance

your eyes find the sky

marvel at the rain of iridescence

you quiver inside

realize godz alive

but you won’t live forever

you start to weigh

the sins the lies the places

you were willing to bend

to blend in to slip in under

the wire your mind wanders

as you contemplate the fire

wondering if the good you

could have done would have

been enough and like a moving

hand your life wrote on shimmering

sand now its a winding sheet

and a band and their whispering

behind the fans

but you can’t hear the band

you are left wondering

what their whispering

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
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