There’s never a perfect time to fall in love.
—Jide Badmus
The sweltering sun peers at me
while I pluck a blooming rose in
my aged mother’s garden. Unlike you,
I have no lover to give. No lover to hold it
tight against her chest like a promise,
to savour its fragrance, to caress its petals
like a baby’s cheeks. You guess the sun
bears witness that I am more single than
a figure. The priest prays I take after him
but it is a prayer that burns the old woman’s
throat. They said it is too late to find love at fifty.
That is why I answer “Brother Paul”. I forgive myself;
circumstances are good at naming. I forgive myself.
Single at fifty, I carry the weight of a lover’s absence
like a hunchback. Age is peeling me—my six packs
have vanished in the passage of time. The old woman’s
back still aches for a grandchild. At fifty, I am only
a warning to young men. God, trim me of this loneliness.
Like a rose in the garden, let the finger
of love find me like an insect finds nectar.
Sarah Adeyemo, Swan IX, is a Nigerian poet, writer, editor, spoken word artiste and communication expert. The debut author of “The Shape of Silence”. She is a fellow of the SprinNG Writing Fellowship. Her works appeared or are forthcoming in Akpata Magazine, The Shallow Tales Review, The Muse Journal, The Weganda Review, Everscribe Magazine, Afrillhill Press, Poems For Persons Interest, TV-63 Magazine, Northern Writers Forum Journal, Eboquills, Rinna Lit. Anthologies, and elsewhere.
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