It glittered all night
welders on scaffolding
soldering huge cylinders
at the kiln.
over blueprints laid in stone.
Cranes, technicians, and
Supervisors seeing by
the torches on their visors,
scribbling on notepads.
Sweeping the radioactive fields
like a geologist,
Beaming down on masons
with torches on visors.
It helped set the blueprints in stone.
It aligned the straightedges,
and captured the excavation.
Like a camera set on a tripod.
Like a geologist inspecting gaspipes laid underground.
A foundry's inventory rose above the barbed
fences like a knoll.
A warhorn blared at five am.
Darkness transformed a familiar neighbourhood into a burka of buildings.
Leaves wet with secrets.
Caterpillars crawled over
the chaosphere with ease.
Hammers and saws reshaped
But I woke up to recognize the star
outside my window.
A strange dog caterwauling the moon
in my yard.
And outside, the wind was quiet,
as if in introspection.
Beetles ran away from the light in my hand.
Cherubs of clouds and contrails adorned the darkness of space.
An airplane glittered but
it was not the same.
Because above the welders was a
light that didn't flinch.
Unending in magnanimity.
Orange sheen of the foundry
painted the slate roofs down the
Soldering irons like white asterisks glittered
from the scaffolding.
And the sound of my footfall vanished in that experience.
Venus, looking down on me.
Above the almond leaves of January,
and the roofs of the nail makers —
Every flower was a dream
All my faults smeared with candle waxes.
Visar writes from Lagos. Author of Daylight (2018) on Ghost City Press. His works have either appeared or are soon appearing on Mojave heart Press, Selcouth Station, Marias at Sampaguitas, Riggwelter journal, Picaroon Poetry, Nightingale & Sparrow, Agbowo, Kalahari review, African Writer, the Gerald Kraak Award Anthology, Amethyst Review, 20.35 Africa Journal etc. Twitter: @rabiutemidayo.