Dogs Poem by Tony Adah

Misty mornings and foggy nights
Dogs toil and struggle in vain dreams
They'd go afishing;
Only crab shells rattle in the nets
In oceans fertile like a womb
Nurturing a foetus.
The land blooms with sadness and ecstasy
Dogs sleep in the domain of the former
They'd eat but famine
The sun will shine or the rain will pour
They'll be kept in a kennel by the yard.
Still they're guard dogs
Chasing the ghosts of murdered men
Voices that scare armed bandits
Away from the gathered wealth
Spewed by the Niger delta into the vaults
Of the affluent
Scarecrows of the Commonwealth
And yawn as wide as the stockpile is tall.
Silently tails wag
And rest between thighs
Back to the heap of ashes the dogs return
They growl and yawn
And dream with withered hope
Their paws treading on robust flesh
Yet a vain craving in their throats
Fearful barks turn into whispers.
They sniff the air
And smell the ordure of murdered men
Dogs remain dogs
Sad and long as the infinite years
Crawl by.

Tonyadah2018