Homeful Refugee Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Not just home,
but a homeful scoop
of air

swirling under
dusk's
gold-laden sky

unlocking padlocks
on doors
to shores
of tomorrow's hills

flattened
by beaded stars
surrounding
a moon's brightest sun.

Toss over
a piece of breath
to land

on me, a crowned
hairstreak.

Let it float
me with me
to Janetta Forester's
door, on all

gold flowers
of the world
pulling
in soft rolling

waves to brush
my soles
to fit in boots
to trudge

up mountains
under
a cold sky
clicking birdy fingers.

O feathers
of fanning sparrow
wings
taking me

to a spot in my
inner bowl
rising with spirals
of a tornado.

(ii)

Tornado
flying off breezy
shores,
to the land

of philtrum valley
down
brow's slope
to cascades

of a tottering river
flowing through
storm-burrowed cheeks

with too many
leaks to level out
into meadows
carrying
this walking lake

of me with only
one home,
the inner bowl

trumpeting out
disembogued waters
from mountainous

cheeks
flowing into a sea
feeding
me with breezes

and gulls
to fly me
through doorsteps
into a castle
within
walls of a cottage.