Harmattan by Tukur

HARMATTAN

Clumsy weather;
Dust and dry,
Almost lethal.
Skins are fried.
Wrinkled surface
Peels on pores.
Healing bruises,
Even sores.
Pinching eyeballs.
Frozen nose.
Icing waters;
Warm to cold.
Freezing every
These and those.
Boiling waters,
Burning coals.
Dirts, particles
Here and there.
Smokes adorning
Atmospheres.
Tens of layers;
Multi-clothes,
Wrapped on torsos,
Limbs also.
Bodies shiver
High and low
Furnace, burners
Widows closed;
Happening every
Harmattan,
Every year but
December.

#O’real
(c) 2015
All Rights reserved.

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