Añuruedoahu Poem by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Añuruedoahu
In Biafra, when we drank from the tilting
cusps of dank leaves and washed with the spittle
of cassava,
the sun scorched like hell.
Añuruedoahu*, the oasis of war, like worldly
cowrie, stagnant, yet devoid of rural fetid,
calmed our nerves and built in the altar of
our souls hopes of answered prayers.
*A mysterious stream in the poet's village.
Friday, January 24, 2014
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
An ode to a mysterious stream in the poet's village.
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5/4/2024 9:39:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
