A Son That Was His Father's Father 1 Poem by *Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu

After the long storm.

At the height of a rite of passage,
he sounded the ancestral horn.
Pupupupuu puuu.

From the unseen, a small voice commanded:
'Return what does not belong here yet.'

The gathering lacked its full weight.
For there are two crowns:
one for walking in, one for sitting on the throne.

An elder whispered to the host.
The host did not listen.

The child grew hot with fever,
until the relic was restored to its chamber
and peace was begged for and given.

Then the heat broke.