DECEMBER INTERLUDE

By Hajarah Adokutu

After Samuel Adeyemi’s November ends

The promise of mist fogs up the sky. The hot lantern lends all warmth to the day. The humid breeze teases prayers from flaky lips. The moon watches as cold bodies swat at bloodthirsty whines. 

Anticipation bites down hard on the corner part of the tongue, the blood drawn is a sacrifice; a plea against undeserving spike of prices. 

“One of you will betray me” The blood declares

“Will it be me?” Fuel asks. 

The blood from this tongue won't cover the tolls the road demands. Accidents, bodies, baggage and homecoming gifts are strewn by the road side. Unseeing eyes sees the promise of the new year in its glazed sights. 

   End of the year parties try to brighten the memories of the previous months. Yuletide chickens lazily run but the meat knows it can't escape the butcher's knife. Familiar and familial faces hide the horror behind their smiles. A banger blast behind the bushes, all ears strain to hear any distress sound. Despair battles gratitude inside these tired bodies. 

“The Victor can only be gratitude” The dead chicken whispers

The calendar is a man made construct, but the reflection of the year passes through minds, each nurturing its scars and oiling its skin. Hoping the oil hides the wounds and glows into the new year to rinse, repeat and try.