Orphan Boy

Boy saw his dad
Lying in a box
Like he was wont
To lie in bed
When he had his siesta
Only that this time
Dad slept
In his best suit
Wore his golden tie
With his Italian shoes
And his glasses on;

His mother cried
Her eyes out
As women all dressed in black
Held her and said incomprehensible words,
He watched
As they lowered the box
Deep into the earth.
He was there,
He saw it all happen...

And his mother?
She cried
As if her heart would jump
Out of her mouth as the women
Held her back from falling
Into the gaping earth
They too cried
As they took her back into the house;

Boy slipped
Out of an aunt's grip
Headed for the house:
He remembered something
And a question was burning
In his small head,
He sat beside her,
Held her hand in his small hands
Looking into her face,

Mum, he called
Yes, dear, she answered
Dad planted yam in the earth
And it germinated
Yes, dear, she answered wondering
When will dad germinate?
She shook her head with pity
Looked down into his small face
With tears in her eyes
And smiled despite her pain
Dad, she said
Will never germinate
Dad is gone
And never would return!
And the tears
Came down in torrents!

Emmanuel Inya Otu-nwachi
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 10/30/2020

Poet's note: The poem continues my reflection on death as we have in the poem, "Funeral Poster." It's an imaginary story of a little boy who watched his father's burial and assumed it was like planting crops which would germinate later. In the poem I look at the condition of little children who lose parents at an early age.
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