Death Of My Woman Poem by Abubakar Abdulkadir

Remember the youth durbar
When you twist yourself
Like salted worm
At the blaring of wonderous drums
Flaunting your teeth galaxy
And the dimples on your cheeks

Those traits had been smouldered
Like junks of steels
In the hearth of motherhood
My woman, sorry woman

You are now the selfless wings
With which the household leaps
And the clothe by the doorpost
On which we wipe our soles
You are both the oak
That bears our weight
When we tilt
And the iroko skinned
To splint our huts

As you die so gently
Like a rose on a sea
I wish to embrace you
And let emotions heal your wounds
But sorry woman
'Helping your woman makes you woman'
Says our elders
Moreover, the sinister of nights
Does not make the moon call on the sun