By Melekwe Anthony
Black, the shadow that sings.
Dizzy and dreamy, I wake up six minutes past midnight
to a crackling at my window. Shapeless figures hovering
in the moonlight, Humming ‘Birds of Winter Crawl’. I pull the
blanket to my freezing abouts. This is not a dream.
I know that song. My dead grandmother’s voice. Careful taps at the glass
And I haste for the night light. Out of power.
The shadows are floating closer and becoming manlike. Ears, neck and what
looks like a sharpened pencil of a head. I try calling Daddy! But nothing sounds.
No a word from my mouth despite my screaming. They are
touching my window now. I can hear them. I must be seeing them too
because an arm slowly manifests from the dark shapes. Wrinkles and freckles,
It stretches for my bed. For me.
This is not Grandma.
(Bio:Melekwe Anthony is a poet, public speaker and a leadership coach. He hails from Lagos, Nigeria and is currently studying journalism at University of Nigeria. Anthony began his writing career in 2018 and since then, he has authored poems featured in different magazines across three continents. Aside from writing, Melekwe is currently a WeVoi ambassador and student union executive. He is a communicator all round, inspiring his audience through writing and speaking.)