The beating of the drum
takes me back home.I think of an old woman’s death
or is it a child’s birth
perhaps a bride is to be wed.
I see people dancing on the streetextolling the death of a life well spent.I hear a baby’s cry
Iyetunde is her nameMama has come back again.The beating of the drum
calling to me.
I hear laughter in the street
a young bride I see on her way
her groom by the Iroko tree…
You can share this discussion in two ways…
Share this link:
Send it with your computer's email program: Email this