All My Wants

The tree still stands but where are its fruits?
The house, like a mouth, muffled now by dust.
That soft, brown blanket sieging something once revered.
I return home anticipating all that noise screaming 
That something thrives here only to watch my heart fall 
Heavy at such cold quiet greeting me at the door.
There is nothing thrilling in this silence. My brothers 
Practice their second walk— that thousands of miles to the threshold 
Of their dreams. The unending search for something.
All I ever dreamt of was laughing with them all day
As if the world will wait for us with open arms. With gentleness.
Everything once in communion pulling apart like magnets 
Reaching for each other with like poles.
My old friends find new places in search of spring.
Back home, we are all hunters. Someone always chasing something 
I, too. Chasing happiness like a game.
Like a lover.
Eyes resting on target. Finger on trigger.
But I’m the net wanting to hold water.
Like my father dyeing his grey crown.

Ayiyi Joel, TPC XVI, is a young aspiring poet from Edo State in Nigeria. A Best Of The Net Nominee.