DAYS OF THE DUSTY BROWN ROOF

 

I remembered when the roof was brown and dusty.

When the sharp sand was a friend to my milky teeth

And the days when my left hand never reached my right ear. 

The days I was scolded but never heed nor hear

The joy of childhood perplexed with the reality of adulthood.

 

The days when the pregnant cloud granted the wishes 

Of children roaming aimlessly in the village square.

Showering them with tiny particles of water like raining bullets

The sensation that doesn’t kill but send chills all over the body 

Serenity that encapusulate the body wrapped with large arms. 

 

The time when the sticky odour of mud walls on Mama’s –

Cloth was the inhaler one need to be whole again.

And when the heat that comes from her hug was the warmth you crave in the world.

Or when Papa shows up at moon with tales that gives light.

 

I remembered the time when my small belly portruded.

The one I carry with pride around every red walls

With freedom that comes with no thought of the next day. 

The time when what comes-comes and what goes, goes

The past where all what I cared for was food and night rest.

Share this:


Like
Like Love Haha Wow Sad Angry
Did you enjoy this story? Then pay a tip:

Tip author


What do you think?

Join The Tell! Community

Read, and write on Africa's most creative community for writers, thinkers and storytellers

Get Started