On a rough road
full of potholes,
in a corrugated
smoke exhaling
bus I was.
Clouds of dust it raised
as it creep on the untarred
rough path they call ‘road’.
A supposed 30mns. trip
consumed twice.
As the bus move with
a chameleonic speed,
it shakes with quakes
That could abort a foetus.
The bus was like a
bouncing tennis ball.
Its body moved sideways
as if ready to befriend the earth.
As I Alighted
from the bus a sigh slipped
from my lips for having a ‘relief, ’
I then trekked beneath the
scorching bare sun.
Like a magnet and a
steel the sand dunes
threaten to steal
my feet.
Dusty, tired
hopeless me
higgledy-piggledy
like a survivour
of a bomb blast.
On my arrival
She splashed a smile
On me, with her toothless
mouth agape. Like a freed
prisoner my worries soon
escaped
30/11/2006 8: 57pm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem