Sparrows

for J

& this is for the last time we met. two boys at the funeral pile.
one watching the other squeeze to ashes in gnashing blue flames.

in this poem. the burning boy is a blur graph plotted in different axes.
– lines cut across fear & despair & grief. remember where we met &

formed a conflux in our mother’s veins – the Nile of death in her womb.
the doctor said we'd not happen. or one person has to happen.

but we flowed together into this world gurgling with blood. giggling at
the defeat of death. the last thing I’ll do in this poem is set on fire

& seek the silhouette of your face against the wall. I have carried
this ritual & again something chars that is not my urge to come &

be with you even for a night. I knew mother had birthed something

more flexible than a bow – the arrow that carries dreams in its spines.
I still know how many sparrows you are yet to catch – a good life,

a good job, a happy family, a wife & two kids…
this morning I woke up to the smell of coffee, & remains of sleep

shower down my eyes. on the wall, I see your shadow standing still.
I see the guts you winged & hollow into the sky in search of dreams. but that

is not the point. we were two long lines nestled on our mother’s palm &
on certain hunt, she fists her hand so tightly to hinder our flight.

what I mean is this:
an arrow at hand is worth two in the sky chasing an illusion
in the name of dreams. you are trying to crack a wrong metaphor

when all is clear that my brother will never come back just like
a bird learns to fly away from home & never return to their nests.

Chinedu Gospel is a young Nigerian Poet. He writes from Anambra. His works have appeared or are forthcoming in The Rising Phoenix, LUNARIS review, Rough cut press, Eremite poetry, Feral poetry, Poetry column NND, Fahmidan journal, Sledgehammer lit mag, among others. He tweets @gospel79070806 & on IG @gospelsofpoetry