by Ayokunle Samuel Betiku Mathias P.R. Reding As if unaccustomed To sound, the brogues Echo lonely down The paved throat Of the hallway at Which end the parlor Holds the mind Of what once held it; Fairy lights, gossips, Cats, her voice Slightly raised above The rest, somehow Managing to coax Shufflings into concord. The air crowded With roast and Jollof. In one room, she hangs On the wall in dust And monochrome, Two maternal epochs Away, frozen Mid glow, light Years behind th