what is this thing called life?
So fleeting is this thing called life,
we journey toward its end…—Avi Fleischer.
once i was a child, innocent & delicate & frolicsome / building sandcastles in the full burst of sun / & all i knew was a world, a circus of laughter / where sweet dreams tour the bodies of people. / then just in a flash, the frenzy is gone / like a lighted room suddenly knifed by dark. / first is the home crying for harvest it laboured for / & wife, too, becomes a burden especially when her belly bursts forth / signalling another little of me coming to the world / insomnia holds my eyelids each time i invite the sleep / & here is my body, fading away as husks of rice in the wind / hoping for earth to swallow me up, away from these vicissitudes / & here i am quiet as a telescope.
Eniola Abdulroqeeb Arówólò is a writer and a student of Mass Communication; he has great flair for writing which has given him the ability to craft numerous literary works. Some of them have appeared or are forthcoming in Spill Words, Pawners Paper, Lolwe, Kissing Dynamite Poetry and elsewhere. He writes from Ibadan.