By Ezekiel Fajenyo
Canopy of burning bumps against infant destinies
spreads out in a sun of sorrow
Climate of fear,atmosphere of unease
is your gift in a season of wastes
Non- robust flair for murders
is your chosen path of farmland of iron traps__
you wrap your thorny towel around world’ s waist
snapping invisible fingers at laboratories to
dare a vaccine
You celebrate widows with whitlows of of pain
and breadwinners with axes around their lean necks
You turn helpless orphans into forest dwellers
eating poisonous leaves to silence restless worms.
Coro virus,
you have shown us there
are more worlds than one
