Lasso Makers Poem by Haruna Garba
Lasso Makers
Curled, noosed or stretched
All ropes are lassoes
Need they only some maneuvers
And you are kinked and caged
Here they are all over
And here are the walking feet
Here they are pulsing
Man is born in to a web
Here are the ropes in our hands
Each thinking of binding his kins
One moment a crier
Another moment jubilant
Folks in their war of wits
Forestaller, the quicker on the draw
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 5:55:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
