The Letter Poem by Tony Adah

At fifth grade
I read a letter that came from Lagos
I read it like I had sore eyes
The words were thick with the fountain
Dipped in a pot of quink blue black ink
Yet I read it like it was blurred
To anxious non literate father
Who sat on his throne
Waiting for a message from his son.

I pranced between the ink ladden pad
And my Michael West which was bought in Lagos
Where this letter came from
I read it like a diviner
Watching his client and the diviner's shells
In a bid to reveal a prognosis
I read it
From one word in the pad
To same word in the dictionary
And my sceptical father waited
As I joined the words back to the sentences
And interpreted to him
The next day
A more proficient reader came in
And walked his own footsteps direct
But the message delivered was one
I read it
And it was true.