Twilight and Silence
Yesterday you went in search of the wind,
scratching places with your feet whilst
singing the songs of a lost child.
You walked until you were lost,
suspended between the walkway and twilight
bleeding moon dappled shade.
Your memories evaporated, leaving you
to drown in the sound of dirge blasting
from the speakers of your subconscious.
You forgot the wind is not yours to find.
You resuscitate dying dreams to no avail
and douse wildfire with gasoline.
Perhaps if you had run you would have become the
wind. Wild and free waiting for death to pass quietly
in your direction.
Semilore Kilaso: "I am a Nigerian writer and student Quantity Surveyor who collects photographs of humans, architecture, wildlife, and landscape. When I am not playing Scrabble or reading books, I am reading lines from architectural drawings. My work appears in Culturalweekly, Entropy Magazine, The Radical Art Review, Nantygreens, and elsewhere. You can reach me on twitter @ooreola."