He Stares Down at his Callused Palms and Smiles

  Callused palms from tilting the earth Hardened and thickened from weeding un-welcomed asphyxiation Sweat-drops habitats his forehead It’s blistering He sips from a container and pours the rest on his sprouts Agony possesses his being He worries – worry for their survival The sun sets, so he heads back to his hut without hope He returns daily to sustain his routine Weeks ahead, he…

The One Who Duels The Night

By Daniella Djiogan She watches me as I sleep With eyes so dark it blend with the color of night I can’t see her, but I feel her presence Perhaps at the far corner of the room Or on the ceiling above my head . Who knows? Certainly not I . I am not particularly…