Birthday Of The Dead Poem by A A Umar Udubo

without a you
sept
ember has done it
again


and like me (since innocent days)
i let it twist
away



mother
september (was) ,
the birthday of your death,
was here but now
it's done it again


the year has thinned down
to two embers
and january is a delicate flower
blossoming
it's a code locked on the face of ticking days


if,
it does you good,
then,
i couldn't've forgotten you
I was bemused
seeing
the birthday of my death
too
reel


of your birthdays i know
one
and
of my birthdays i know
one

the day you left you're
born
the day i was born
i die

you're the beginning
and
i - the end (the start)


mother
we're beings
around ember months


the day my soul unsheathed
itself
of this flesh
I shall set sail
on the shoreless sea-
a journey, with you, that has
no end-


and (a world)
without you and
me
the sept
ember,
birthday of the dead,
slips
no more