BUT THIS IS NOT A POEM ABOUT RAIN
by Hauwa Nuhu
outside, the wind holds my window by the sides, gingerly.
the sound is the quiet jiggle of a woman’s waistbeads
outside, the rain beats down with vengeance
for a sin only the earth knows
but this is not a poem about rain.
there’s a finality to the voice a heart assumes
when it begins to writhe for its lover
a memory could curve into vision,
try to civilize itself into a distraction.
(and there, you will see
that remembrance
and forgetfulness wear the same skin)
you could assemble all the songs your bones know,
have them singe themselves into the present.
each trying to outclass the other
in their race to the heavens
the rain could rage louder and louder,
drown out the origin of any form of sound.
that voice,
it will stay.
it is not in the nature of hearts to be bullied.
Source: From the Rebel Issue (October 2019)
BUT THIS IS NOT A POEM ABOUT RAIN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
HAUWA SHAFFII NUHU is a Nigerian poet and essayist whose work has appeared on Popula, Ake Review, After the Pause journal, Brittle Paper, Tiny Essays and elsewhere. She is a 2018 fellow of Ebedi Writers Residency. She writes from Nigeria where she is currently rounding up a law degree.
