|1974 The Crescent Moon - Uche Okeke|
They talked and walked,
Walked and talked and talked –
Talkative homing dames;
Mothers, grandmother, all homing,
Returning from a distant mart
Baskets on heads, words on lips-
Gossip or tall tales of folk at home.
They clapped their hands;
They screamed from time to time;
They moved their hands in most expressive ways –
Their hands spoke even louder than their tongues –
As they swept like a great Saharan wind
Along the winding beaten tracks
Before them, silent, deserted.
Not even the discordant croaking of the toad,
Not even the noise of insects here and there,
Not even the songs of birds everywhere,
Were heard above the noise of these homing folk
Who (forgetful of the ancient saying
That even blades of grass are living ears)
Could not restrain their long and wagging tongues.