Walk Through A Forest's Floor Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Blue sky peeled
off wax's coat
sips its melt
on a candle's mouth.

Pumped up
by the bonfire

of hope's rebound
on a walk
through the woods.

Past staggered cascades
of dead leaves on slabs
of rock flown
by rattling and whistling

gales from an old
sandstone's face
sloshing off pimples

and wrinkles and holes
dug by itchy times.

(ii)

Dry boreholes sunk
into cheeks
carrying no silvery springs

to sprinkle on the desert
of a venom joke
that parched foliage
and flowers

into brittle twigs
and sleeveless petioles
hanging on cobweb
threads of sun,

when creeping spiders
of rays sting
and maul flesh
into pinching pincers.

(iii)

Thorns and needles
from hurled,
scraping rays run down
shoulders to toes,

nibbling off moon-smooth,
skin, to leave toad
back bumps, croaking
on my thighs.

Only a wind from a nest
that flipped a fledgling at
my loop

cuts through a film
of night
settling on me,

as rays from a squeak
garland me
with flowers of youth.