Belise Nishimwe: Bird Call
He taught me how to wrap my hands into one
like two seas that clash with one another
to form a cave that delivers hymns to Turaco’s wings and spirits
who hover o’er mountains.
Blowing into those brown hands
I form hollow winds
directing incense towards
the tribe/
And in dance
the bird’s talons unfurled
relinquishing the aspirations of those gone
as brandings upon my palms.