e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

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Native Fly: Agbor

A land that fits a taste
A path that ascent the road
To an origin of Onye Agbor’s old

A search of a sound
That gets the stomach fold
Drums harder in the Dein’s Palace.

Down the streets
Ye rigwo?
They keep asking and giving
Yet they never lack

There is more to ‘Agbon’
Than a ‘Bini’ word
Orogodo a river for fishes
Hands to hoes, Onye Agbor never rest.


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