Mother’s body tasted the civil crisis

I. my mother’s body was a mirror/
where father pictured himself /
as children, we saw how those roots in her body grew/
her eyes lighted our presence like Christmas trees

II. mother’s body lost its essence during the civil crisis/
her legs stripped naked/ a stray bullet fell in love with her arms/
her roots were broken, short-lived and abandoned

III. mother’s body became a graveyard/
so silent/ no one could hear her whispered/ her beautiful face couldn’t grow young again/
those days became a symbol of golden darkness

IV. mother’s body couldn’t read the description of her husband/ sad and/
her husband eyes made tears like angry birds/
her body instruments lost its melodius tone

V. mother breathed/
but it seemed like oxygen had disappeared from the atmosphere/
it felt like the tube connected to her nostril had broken air/
and father pictures were blurred/ cause mother’s body became a victim of the civil crisis

By Edwin Olu Bestman

Biography:

Edwin Olu Bestman is a young multi award winning poet from Liberia. His works have been published in Nantygreens, Odd magazine, Spillwords and so forth.