Categories
Poetry

Amuse: The sunset 

Sometimes I do think the sun was angry when she was hot

People hide underneath the tree branches, some throw down mats

And in few minutes they snore out there fatigue without remorse

They blow trumpets, letting their mouths wobble in defeat

Yet I wonder if by chance the suns heat was responsible, 

As her benevolence was misinterpreted as a queer malevolence

But she did her work and as the day will be soon spent

She must take her heat somewhere else but the snorer must snore

Commentary. 

Image by my twelve year old brother, Chijindu Favor Iroegbu who just celebrated his birthday yesterday, 18/01/2018. A cheerful year to him, I wish.