The drowned, not yet born.
The fish has eaten away
the worms over hooks,
we are left to the hooks.
Living breath conjuring
up dark waters.
Dawn rubs its wet nose over grass
as dusk rubs its back
over the windows by night.
Ghost faces underfoot.
The soil is soaked with unknown.
Silent Drums
Gonge dancers sit
thinking of music
that once brought
joy to the heart.
Silent stay their drums
like monkeys
dreaming of banana.