Saturday, February 4, 2012

In the small hours

an abstract

Departures linger. Absences do not
Deplete the tavern. They hang over the haze
As exhalations from receded shores. Soon,
Night repossesses the silence, but till dawn
The notes hold sway, smoky
Epiphanies, possessive of the hours.

- Wole Soyinka

this satire.

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