Hooded Lass

Photo by Wendy Pye

Make me a cavern of disinvolvement
So a dainty lass may sit
Build it on jeans burnished pew
Burnt umber hoodie adorned
Let her a Praying monk poise
Over slender limbs crossed

In sun bleached Sussex cadence
Scrupulous silence abide
Nose buried in black oval
Porcelain fingers scribble
Meshes from cryptic prose

Her couthy In God’s given peace
Tiny plimsoles wafts
Air laden with hopes
She labour the mind
On pleasured puzzles

Arrest Heraclitus’ change
On this hour held still
Rubber swoosh on tarmac hushed
Living in covid eyes
Where distance is norm

She consecrates the hour fully
For tomorrow is the sayers mercy
And today a fiery steed
A wary ride on Nelson’s pride
Mellow peacefully, sit darling sit

By Andrew Okri