The People In My Dreams Poem by Oduro Bright Amoh

The people in my dreams clothe themselves in flying light.
Maybe they flaunt the memories they have become.
My grandfather,
who became old 6 years before he died,
And who decided against
Curing a common cold in the hospital;
I see him
Carrying the chunks of smoked tuna
He used to hide from my mum.
Sometimes he puts bits in his toothless mouth,
At other times he gives them to me.
He is whiter than all I see
I have seen my Primary 6 teacher, in devilish brightness,
Reminding me not to forget the vows I took
To never let it depart,
When he married my mind to the pen.
He still smells of fresh blood and engine oil.
But Grandma wears pit-black darkness
Grandma says nothing,
Only her tearsshimmer like stars through the pit of night
It is her name they call when they call me.
Sometimes, a figure, like the opening of lips appear faintly,
Then smoke, white smoke.