Eleven, Eleven

ELEVEN, ELEVEN

I longed for this day,
To fall into the amorous
Arms of days gone by, to drift
Into the halcyon days of youth
To have another go at the past

Eleven, eleven is here again
But I am not provoked by songs of the wind
That make me relive yesterday
The children are not singing
Eleven, eleven, Hamatam
‘Cause there’s no hamatam

I’m looking around for people
With coarse skins, but
Theirs are more succulent than mine
Now…
I’m thinking of Marry-Knoll College
Not in nostalgia

But in wonderment
Of where the wind has gone
Of what is happening at
The boundless gates of Marco,
Burial ground, toilet, dam, field, father’s house and,
Akpariku… the forbidden farce
(c)  Ochelebe T