Onunu Alaba Danagogo Thump. Thump. Thump. I wake up to that steady beat Thump. Thump. Thump. I need not wonder what it is For I am always pleased by this Thump. Thump. Thump. It is not the beating of my mother’s heart, Her heartbeat does not make the windows shiver Nor does it resonate throughout the small house Thump. Thump. Thump. I edge out of my parents’ bed, stumbling on my four years old feet The air is rife with the delicious scent of mother’s food And the haze of sleep is instantly wiped from my gaze
Thump. Thump. Thump. Eager as a pianist’s fingers over an ivory piano during a Spanish dance piece With plodding steps, I make my merry way to the source of the pounding Closer I get, the sound reverberates through my little feet Up my short legs and finally to my heart which races in time And swells with joy in anticipation of what is to come Spring 2020 | 11
