poem

[burkinabe]

Rumiki

Rumiki
Walking through the lush
stalks--
he hasnt had his front teeth for the last
eight months
smiles like pain
frowns like laughter
careful
as he puts his shirt on or
takes a bath in
the wide tin basin
his mother warmed for him--

Shy like a whisper
quiet like a prayer
made from the lush
aftertaste of the dabba
a taste of earth
a taste of green
a round face
a prayer.