Letters to Marion (And the Coming Generations)

Lysona

9 John Nkemngong Nkengasong Africa, my Africa when shall your children live the unlived centuries of their ancestors? Lysona When the parrot’s song ends with roost on a twig in the calm of the wilderness when the red round moon wanders unscarred thro’ his dominions when the throttling snores of tired folk speak comfort in chambers where they sleep when little streams grove the chests of river stones and the bristling dew naps on breasts of night-veiled flowers when the whistling lullaby of the midnight breeze and of the enchanter, the cricket drowns me in the dream I meet that face again and the hybrid soul in her that belonged to me. ...