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Ibadan Dawn
Mist-hung curtains, adrizzle-damp, draw, fall
Apart, spring a forward catch in the sky
That swift over us spreads, all
Of a lift, this fresh burst of blue, freckled dye
In running decks
Of quicksilver flakes and flecks.
It is pageant fit for a bride—
Who, ah, look at! walks over there wide
Velvet greens dipping out of sight :
Rush outdoor concession-strong,
Greet her with cockerel song,
For blushing calm from flush of cam,
Morning comes breathing flowers, warm and light
Of limbs, to charm earth from vice of night—
Tumble in her flaming tan?
— John Pepper Clark
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