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He came in moonlit grace

(To my son, Mone Shakyumiter Gilgamesh Peregrine Labe, born Friday 18th Sept., 2015)   He came in moonlit grace Out of the silent shrills of sundown When in fairer tapestries, thousand stars emerged on golden chariots And nine moons sang sonorous psalmodies.   He came in moonlit grace Like a candle flame embroidered...

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Ngodoo gom

  (In Memoriam)   Ngodoo At Vespers, The night stood still With the moon and stars clothed in ashes And I read the dirge: You stood adorned with the moon And crowned with dazzling stars I called your name, three times And you smiled and soared Glossed with the Viaticum of endless prayers.   Ngodoo At Compline, The night became a...

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A YELLOW TAXI pulled over, in front of the school gate and the brothers alighted with grocery bags. It was the last Saturday of the month and the school’s visiting day. For the past three months, the principal had cancelled school visits. ‘The school is...

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The last night

By Andrew Aondosoo Labe THIS VILLAGE smells like a malodorous wound. The moon sits bald and folds her hands on top of a starry tablecloth. The sun stands still with his hands crossed at his orange chest. Everything else is a collage of darkness – the trees...

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