
We are the finest silver
Shining through the dark cabinets
Wherein we’re packed and neatly arranged
Brought out to serve august guests in December
We are the finest ceramics
Neat, clean, dry and out of sight in choice cabinets
Wherein we wait for occasions out of the ordinary
Broken out to hold the most tasteful akpamu detsi for travelers from afar
We are the awe-inspiring glass from Murano - Venice,
Seal unbroken, still wrapped in present paper at the top of cabinets
Wherein we wait, for days of extreme joy or pain
To be brought out and given a taste of whatever drinks the occasions call for
We are the nicest Ʋegba of clay - white, red and black
Our insides squeaky clean and our containers covered in forgotten dust
Wherein we wait for special people on special days to see daylight
To feast, to mourn, to jubilate, to wail whatever songs the occasions call for
While tucked away in our darkness, we wonder daily,
Would we rather be plastics, in order not to be –
Remembered only on the extraordinary day?
x.k
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