A Man's Face Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

The face of a man
is the sun rising
or settling on shifting

bouncing seats
on his temple, the mirror

brandishing you
the hidden cloud

drifting slowly
to a crater
still planting light,

a rainbow sprayed
too fast to last.

And too slowly
to be seen
in full attire.

Forehead and cheeks
chunks of a lake,
sky leaving fingerprints.

But a smooth beam
often buries
the rough pimpled rock
croaking like a giant frog.

It won't pop out
of its cage,
cracked dusty earth.

(ii)

On which all tramp
and slog with
heavy feet overdressed

with crawling sludge
on a street of stretchy shoes
on small feet.

Walking too fast
for soles to be seen.

Or walking too slowly
with a bow
to the feet, an arc
of the half-moon.

A man's face beams
with soles
we never saw at dawn.