By
Akor Emmanuel
SPECTACLE
Blue lights are illuminating the air
filled with fake white powder rising,
the anticipation climbing;
Mic cuddle mouth to the awe of sight.
Our souls are left in sonorous care.
TICK
Per hour,
per second;
clock wise, anticlock wise,
the gentle clock hand
tuck.
Life is passing like dispersing
seeds
on the harmattan wind
dancing unseen,
moving far away into
the future.
