Spectrum To A Bridge Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)


A bobbing ray
from an amethyst,
a golden eagle

he once earned
from a feat -

water drowning in water,
killing a tear on his cheek
with a shrike's sigh
from cymbals rubbed

and scrubbed
to grab an alto wind's voice.

A shower of silver
grain rain
and a neck-muffling bath

in snow basins and buckets
poured out
from a sky's tank.

(ii)

Fitting ear and air
into a deep bag of clouds

swelling his hands
in the warm smoke

growing into mist and yeast
in his bulging pocket.

He's been walking
on a rainbow,
as the chameleon in his head

flips from dress to dress,
rays of daylight
drowned by seaweed.

A jewel of a gemstone
has melted
towards the other side
of the bridge

he's been crossing for forty
four breeze-pulled years.

(iii)

But his storm-aged friend
had grown
baobab root beards

hanging on
after marble-smooth shaves.

His childhood play mate
tall as tornado,
was tossed over a cliff,

as he rose
into clouds
to fetch golden rings

buried in the dust
beneath his clam feet clinging
only to dust,

his shell broken into the dust
his shell broken
before he crossed the bridge
roofing life's deluge.