Africa no more for summer days;
the ides of June have returned,
angry, bringing floods of tears
in flashes of a passionate fire;
the friends of year past are back:
two swallows for the sake of lives. 

Flames rage in myriads of little pops;
sheets of icy rain like dark shrouds
roar as if crumbling walls of pain;
nesting in a warm barn the birds rest,
contemplating the months gone by,
in remembrance of their last depart.

The gate has been left wide open,
inviting to all, welcoming the ancestors,
dreaming of one more encounter
by the hearth, an old in-folio screams,
stories unending, making eternity,
the winged ones flutter for time lost.

Midnight is near, the bones are naked,
shattering for attention they long to sing,
revived by the return of their souls,
warm from a winter in the Sahara,
the dialogue will continue for weeks now.
until once again they wave good bye.

So the ghosts at peace will sleep,
in the depth of their handsome graves;
their golden freedom undeniable,
while so many friends will remain,
hoping for a moment’s reprieve,
in the lonely months yet ahead. 

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FABRICE POUSSIN: teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His
photography has been published in The Front
Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review
as well as other publications.