EditorialFiction

Heaven Simple

the wind did not howl
but the door frame is loose
vibrated and swayed
like the unhinged rusting tin roof
and her anxious heart
like the approach of the wind
the visitors seemed to arrive
to test the breach in the  weakness
what was giving way in her situation
their shadows eerily long
threadbare the last of her hopes
their steps determined and firm
calling her out, voices loud
out in light to accost
treasure ships of riffraff ghosts
any other day
not when she is down with decay
her nerves are far from calm
the visitors as the wind
each raindrop
ceaseless till it stops
want to prevail 
leave her unveiled
that her pillar was gone
that she knew not how strong
uprooted he was
cut down in the sweetest hour 
then she heard am yet to be gone
not until you let me fall
yes I reverberate
in each step from here now you take

Amara Okech

Wuod Okech Nyakwar Amara has written on and off for the last 15 years, mostly poetry and short stories. Amara is based in Ongata Rongai, Kenya, just outside the capital, Nairobi. She also does ink sketching and painting.

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