SOBOLO

SOBOLO
Biting itches
In my throat—
Flaming drought

My tongue is restless
searching around my gums
For shadows of
The last drops
Of yesterday's rains

Dig me one bottle
From the belly of ice—
Red rains with
Gingers to scratch
Off the itches in my throat

And calm my tongue
With the grip of cold

I yearn for sobolo-
The blood that clears
The guilt of thirst

Nora, serve me Sobolo
©Sarpong Kumankoma