Sunday Igwebuike


As the winter nights blew, Cold, lock in, flu, drenching souls! Hospital bills riging, Then comes the Spring, A breather you say, And summer, bright and fair! A happy day of joy. A sea of resurrection! Parties, travels, hot exchanges! Summer is not of the blue, Widely expected! Summer days, oh my haven! But as an African child, Summer is a lost to me. Birds in the migration from cold, No passport, no visa, Land at my back yard. With their lovely voice, And beautiful nests, Difficult to aim. Summer takes them to their native land, Oh how I pray for their safety, And return journey! Now the birds run to and fro, Without papers, no cost, Why not me? Oh summer count me in!

Topic(s) of this poem: africa, america, summer

Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 13, 2016

Form: Free Verse

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