Ruins Kept Her Secret

A poem by Owolusi Lucky

The kind seamstress whose hand

Weaves green of fields, dotted with

Flowery heads of weeds, clothing it

With ivy, spreading a rug of

Dried leave in her courtyards.

Dread of thorns flows from nape

To foundation embraced by mosses.

Irons, silverwares forgotten gentle

Touch held a council of rust.

Single chair rocks to rhythm of wind,

Spooky dolls bemired faces frozen in laughter.

The cats long abandoned the piano

To limbless wind, by fire hearth

Whose flame burns in haunted memories.

Derelict wheelchair stood guard by

Rusty bed frame abandoned by pain.

Rotten in stiff drawer unsent, scribbled

By young hands of unknown lady on page

Long gnarled by moth, defiling time.

I read it out loud as charity to the dead.

Dear John,

If ever you come back know that…

The ruin kept her secret eating the

Rest into dust.

Owolusi Lucky is a Nigerian writer. He was a top finalist for the 2021 Voice of Peace Intercontinental Poetry Competition. He has published in Noctivagant Press, Crosscurrent, America Diversity Report, Afrorep, Decolonial Passage, Hallowzine, Arkorewrites, Scars Publication, and others forthcoming at MacroMicroCosm, and Sweetycat Press.

© Owolusi Lucky. All rights reserved.