Albatross And Snail Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

You said I was
a snail,
as you flapped
albatross wings

through graphite,
pebble
and charcoal skies.

But I crept
along a daisy path
by hillsides,

as pulled myself
through
to a boulder's back.

And as a storm
raged and ploughed
out the fat
rooted rock
to roll down and down.

(ii)

I stuck myself safely
to a hollow slab
next to the sun's orange
and sienna corona
burning off every being,
but me,

as I'd slipped off
with a cold wind shear

to a spot near
a spring, as I continued
my climb

through hills
and mountains
to a sky's crown
hanging
above an overgrown
Hyperion tree.

(iii)

Albatross, I saw you
rise from your fall
deep down
a porous gorge,

as you flapped
your wings again
and rose like a rocket
into a sky

too close to ruby-rose
and raspberry skies
igniting a fire
fueled by the sun's orange
corona flame.

(iv)

I kept on creeping
on a wind-drifted branch,
as you wriggled off
the sky, already a lump
of feathery
cinder-feathered charcoal,

and I heard the thud
of your fall
in the swamps, but your
claw-digging struggle

to writhe out of a clog
of bog
only sank you deeper
beneath a lotus
rebirthing without you.

Here I spin on a leaf
up a Hyperion tree,
but I cannot pull you back
from your high-speed grave.