They arrive at the edge of the River Niger,
dust-lunged, silence-bled, hands black with patterns,
and mouths cracked like vaults of forgotten wars –
spitting ember and salt.
One comes with a mouth full of ash, coughing out treaties no one honored.
One comes with pockets full of teeth; and one carries the name of a city
erased from the map. One comes chanting an anthem so broken.
One carries a knife that cuts through waters & ghosts.
One carries the coordinates of a mass grave. One comes with exile in his bone.
One carries a lost river in her lungs; we can see drowned empires between her ribs.
We ask them officially –what have you brought us?
One bows and offers the rust of centuries.
One kneels and scoops the earth into her mouth.
One washes his hand in the river, and it turns to mercury.
One writes our names backwards into the air,
and holds out an empty hand.
At dusk, they press their foreheads to the dirt, and vanish –
leaving behind the scent of rain, a coin, a crumpled elegy,
an unblinking eye and the voice of someone somewhere,
still calling for help, long after God stopped
taking requests.
Soonest Nathaniel is a poet, digital media strategist, and broadcast journalist whose award‑winning work includes Teaching Father How to Impregnate Women and Burying the Ghost of Dead Narratives. A Rhysling and Pushcart nominee, he’s held fellowships with the International Writing Program and Langston Hughes, with poems published widely across global journals.
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