Harmony from a dark heart
Between March and May
The Harmattan season blows hot and dry
A continental trade wind that sweeps
From the Sahara to the Gulf of Guinea
And somewhere south of
Ancient Khartoum
Without wings, I fly south
High above the dusty road
Beside the White Nile
And I glide
While the percussive beat of drums
Is met by chords that float
Like me
And if I told you
The truth
That I am hypnotized
By the dust plume
The particulate plumage
Left behind
When I couldn't fly
(completed on a Sunday, the sixteenth day of June, 2024)