And you think that is the end
of summer until the flowering trees
die to bud again. You do not need
new buddies or the old bodies
you have worn until they brought you
here until they wore out and
all that is left may be the night
clothing you. But that is all you needed.
Nothing. And a bookshelf of grass
in your room for the days you might
need the world, and its dew and its touch.
Ars
Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi is a Writer, Haikuist and a Veterinary Medicine student from Nigeria. A Thomas Dylan Shortlist and A Pushcart Nominee, He reads submissions at Sea glass literary magazine and edits for the incognito press. His works are published in Gone Lawn, Hooligan Magazine and more. He tweets from;@tinybecomings