Mother’s body tasted the civil crisis

A Poem

By Edwin Olu Bestman


my mother’s body was a mirror/
where father pictured himself /
as children, we saw how those roots in her body grew/
her eyes lighted our presence like Christmas trees


mother’s body lost its essence during the civil crisis/
her legs stripped naked/ a stray bullet fell in love with her arms/
her roots were broken, short-lived and abandoned


mother’s body became a graveyard/
so silent/ no one could hear her whispered/ her beautiful face couldn’t grow young again/
those days became a symbol of golden darkness


mother’s body couldn’t read the description of her husband/ sad and/
her husband eyes made tears like angry birds/
her body instruments lost its melodious tone


mother breathed/
but it seemed like oxygen had disappeared from the atmosphere/
it felt like the tube connected to her nostril had broken air/
and father pictures were blurred/ cause mother’s body became a victim of the civil crisis