(i.) The Moon
The Moon is following me
And with her light I see
Wherever I walk she stalks
Behind my shadow she follows
And how she sweeps the land
Looking for me in the quiet clan.

(ii.) Village Square
The nights dancing festival
Brings all, big and small
The farmer, the wine tapper
The cobbler and the dancer
A night of skewered meat
And one, were lovers meet.

(iii.) The candle
See how her pretty light flickers
Throwing the light on my papers
Like a tongue of fire
She seeks to be admired
For even the wind has come
To rest and get some warm.

(iv.) The dancer
The drums beat hard
And she strod forward
Swerving about like a mad maiden
In a big and crowded man-full den
Dancing to the cat-calls, the desires, the drunk men
And for all that cared to come watch her or listen.

***

Commentary

I’m revisiting a collection I wrote in Nigeria some time ago. These four poems are purely imaginative. The only change is the formatting; I’ve tried not to alter the wording. I’ve also included an image. The moon image was taken at the Blue Oak Nature Reserve, in the mountains near San Jose, Northern California. I’m only briefly commenting on the moon poem and the image. I think the short poem is good. Reading it aloud, I notice how the lines flow. Besides the flawless rhymes, these two lines are almost perfect:

Wherever I walk she stalks
Behind my shadow, she follows

Pay attention to the italicized words and their function in the piece. While I add an image of the moon taken in America to a poem inspired by the moon’s appearance in Nigeria, I’m unsure what to make of it. I’m far from Nigeria, from Africa, but the same moon shines everywhere, even here in America. Good night.