Letter To December Poem by Olamide Adebayo

Rivers away-against east;
And under the black shade, you stealed into limelight,
As if were you a crunk hunter
Who had defeated the jungle-king.

Dear Mirenda,
You rode in your cart,
To there; where I flew my kite,
And there! the horse found a stable.

Were you able to satiate the denouement of numerous cycle,
In the north, east, south;
But you ricocheted against west.
Perhaps, fear gripped your cold-blooded palm;
Forever bold you are.

You derided wealth to slumber,
All that it went numb, in shame of the hairs it could not buy.

The sun set, to reveal the stretch of both edges of your lips,
And the moon coerce your shadow, into exile.
Now you see, the moon is set to take its turn;
We plead some privacy, to proceed into a new world.

I am the vivacious hair,
Which even your knife failed to uproot.