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The iroko had fallen years ago
But no one said anything.
Through and through,
Many murmured but no one said anything.
Its trunk grew green and mute, now brown and loud like a gong
But no one said anything.
Its leaf light, now ready to bless mother earth
But no one said anything again.
It had become a resting place for all kinds of feathers and the builders solace
But no one said anything.
The iroko had fallen years ago, but no one said anything because of
Fear of the unknown superstitious deity it represents.
Many came, they watched in silence, they doubted its dryness
Still no one said anything.
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