Bez killed a slithering snake
On refusing to bury it’s severed head,
A cat looked at her and she did shake
She had broken a rule in two.
A double take she did
Riding the night in anguish
The omens must be making mischief
The raven at the door says so.
Ravens speak when they are dead, right?
Or is it owls or crows or baby bats?
She knows something is just not right
The kettle whistles in a shrilling cry
She looks down and her head spins
Dizzy and nearly drooling
She stoops and doesn’t conquer her fears
There goes another superstition.
Quick check, another victim?
An itchy palm on a rainy day
It’s Tosan’s turn for a grim adventure
Where the superstitious go to play.
Copyright © 2019 Olutomi Akinsanya