Jesse Ojuka

She found me throwing bronze coins into O’Connell river whilst the sun put on its eye shades 
she refused to shake my hand, an advocate for embrace 
but when she landed upon my invitation
she turned me to a cello 
and played me all of the notes 
running by the river in the middle of a forest 
whilst rain didn’t care to speak poor 
mix me the apples and apricots 
dine with the wine and wedding rings sign 
for two weeks retreat 
everything touched turned into an instrument 
and the instruments turn into a story of 
a younger day with kisses and the bow of catastrophe 
whilst we sit in the garden 
plucking cherries from the head of a tree 
in glee