POETIC LINES OF AN OLD BEGGER

The Sun, tropical

Shimmering in mid afternoon of a Saturday's summer

When I heard a frail voice mumbling

Along the busy sidewalks

Louder than my rumbling inner voice

Maybe it was or it wasn't for me

Since everyone passing ignored it. 

Like a statue with my legs glued to the floor

So ancient a woman I saw

Beautifully old with silvered locks and furrowed brow

Her eyes melted stones and her smile crooked yet glow

I have a story to tell

So I sat with her and travelled back 

To her days of yore I wish

But the blaring song was on repeat

So were the only lines she could sing

A part she wanted me to dance to. 

I care not about food

Haven't me had a drop today

Have me just some water

My throat is as dry as my pocket

Then I wondered

Does she hurdles for sleep on the doorway?

Wasted her precious youth trying to buy her way?

A barren with no grandchildren?

Or a witch that made dinners out of children?

Is my blood next on her menu?

Should I bless her with water or watch her patched throat strive?

My thoughts grew more scarier. 

So I talked to my legs. 

The door of my fridge I held

Though my heavy breathe stayed calm

Her lines followed me to my house

Once again I talked to my legs

my hand, a bottle of water

Take, this is what you want! I said with my mind

But she refused to take it

And like a nursery rhyme

Her lines so smooth on her lips —

I care not about food

Haven't me had a drop today

Have me just some water

My throat is as dry as my pocket

So I pressed my eyes to hers

To and fro I waved her my hands

The poor dame, blind to the ills can't see

Then I reached for her wrinkled hand

To fit in the small bottle 

Hastily down she gulped 

The moment I spent watching her

I saw not an homeless oldie that gambled her youth

Or a dangerous witch lurking for my blood

All I saw was an elderly

Thirsty and in need of water

And finally, before I turned to leave

I heard from her a different line:

Whether you are young or old

You shall never know my kind of thirst

 

And with no word I walked away

Since I care not 

If her changed line was a prayer.

© Ayomide Lawal

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