night fires at the wake

(for our lost ones…and elvis iyorngurum)

the night fires are no longer for fun tales
they are for the wake
of several deaths
not for the dead gone
but the living with lives long worn
out like winds sapped from souls

theories fly from diverse lands
rubbing sand into our eyes
even as we keep these fires

are you really a figment of our thoughts
        a political statement
a stunt to destroy our famed luck?

the cold slaps us
as things get worse
hash tags fly but realities remain grounded
the days are still counting
yet the fires crackle
as we wait at the wake

———————

to kill the sun and steal the moon

some people will shoot the sun to steal the moon
they will romance the night
shut the shutters
and

forget the beauty of daylight

later
in the moon’s hold
they will seek the feel
of the glaring king of the sky

too late

frost will teach
sometimes romance lies
they will sigh, they will cry
    and then watch their joys fly

———————

Poems: Su’eddie Vershima Agema
Image: Alasdair via Flickr