Henrietta Ezegbe Poems

Roots in shifting soil,
A quiet strength in the change —
Flourish in the now.
...

Morning begins with small jurisdictions.
Kettle. Window. Heartbeats.
The soft arithmetic of light
entering a room you arranged
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I stand as the law
of root and waking earth
spring answers to me
...

Spring Answers To Me

Spring does not arrive.
It is permitted.
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They ask for a summary.
Themes.
Style.
...

Corridors leaned in.
Walls held expectation.
You bent, softened, polished
reflections that were never yours.
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They whisper "too much."
They murmur "over corrected."

You listen once.
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She moves through corridors of becoming,
not as a finished shape
but as a question
held in motion,
...

Softness,
bent under pressure.

Fracture expected.
...

They say she carries herself
like she was born to the room.
As though polish
arrived hereditary.
...