Images and Voices



I find dread
In saying this–
I will say it, anyway.
I see nostalgic images
Of black and white.
In those awry images
He looks at me 
With innocence
Like an object
Atop the Burj Khalifa.
Daddy! Please lift me up!
He says in echoes.

I eye him 
In black and white
Jumping up and down
Energetically and happily
Like a calf 
In the morning sun.

I eye him
In black and white
Innocently ravaging
The pumpkin leaves,
Jungle green and vigorous,
While playing 
On the fluffy carpet
Of dry grass.

I hear his voice 
In echoes
And see his images 
In black and white
Waking me up 
At daybreak 
Crossing over to me
And calling out vibrantly
Daddy! I feel hungry!

I see him chanting
The Kamba songs 
That we learn
When resting on our bed.

I see images of my pie
Like a prophecy
And hear his unripe voice
Like a man under captivity
Of a strange intoxicant.

(Written in December 2019, on an unclear date.)

© Sea-Crab Poetry.
(Voyager of Words)

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