crackled into dark
I walked around the casket and saw Grandma’s distorted body.
It lay there,
in the dark,
a cathedral with no priest,
light bulb yanked out of its power supply violently,
a sea of memories with no bank,
simply leaking onto thin air and evaporating,
like it never existed.
Poems by the same author: Hustle
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
David Agyei-Yeboah is an artist from Accra, Ghana. He quit law school twice to pursue a creative degree. Now a first-class honours graduate of English and Theatre Arts from the University of Ghana, he has work published/forthcoming in many literary magazines. He was long-listed for The Totally Free Best of the Bottom Drawer Global Writing Prize 2021 from The Black Spring Press Group, UK. He was also shortlisted for Ursus Americanus, 2022 and was a finalist for Harbor Editions, 2022 (Small Harbor Publishing). David writes music and sings as he sees music as an extension of his poetry. Wish him luck as he attempts to record a debut album in 2023. He scarcely tweets @david_shaddai and posts mini covers on Instagram @davidshaddai.
