Posted in Poetry

Changed signs and times

By Ochi Emma Opara

…the native Doctor’s beads and amulets
have changed hands and name.
the ogene has remained; even as a bell.
that accompanies the new seers
who dread Friday meat.
My nostrils succumb to the stench of incense
 moving in studied direction,
like a four way pendulum
chasing the devil away.
Born – again Ebenezer says
it is the sign of the cross,
challenging my ignorance that saw my village cross road –
Mgbabo eje eri aja.
The dancers changed indeed.
Sure they changed,
leaving the music intact.
Eloi, eloi…….
****A poem by my friend & classmate Ochi Emma Opara in response to my poem Ogbanje III