heavens opened and showers of blessing
became a sprawl of chewing bitter-leaf.
the whirlpool of storms swept the solid ground
and liquid air like a thief in the night.
the rich and poor became a freezing heat —
a burning ice in their soaking heat of
doom as valuables dance in a sweep'ng flood.
houses are now drenched with what erect'd them.
have they not lived on floodplains when the earth
denied its inhabitants thirsts — is it
blood that the soil wants or oceans of rain?
We have known pain already, save our soul.
oh markudi/cross river.
Akinwale Peace Akindayo