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Falling For Moon – Poetry by Ghanaian Writer, Eamy Mireku

By Eamy Mireku
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December 6, 2022
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In 
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3 Min Read
A poem that moons after the moon and talks about hope.

All these rejections remind me of that night, in the back seat of that trotro when six-year-old me fell in love and went crazy over that bright moon on the return journey to Akropong Akuapem. Completely blown away by the moon’s beautiful glow; the main source of light on the road. There were no streetlights & the trotro’s headlights were extremely dull. I was won over by the moon’s kindness. Every time I looked up, it was staring right back. It was following me everywhere. Anywhere the trotro turned & every hill the trotro descended & every curve the trotro negotiated, it was still up in the sky, looking at me and throwing light onto the trotro’s path. Nothing could convince me that the moon wasn’t following me.

Later at home, it was right there outside my window, filling my room with magical moonlight. I was obsessed with the moon and it was clearly there for me too. It liked me too. The feeling must be mutual.

I am not six years anymore. I know the feeling wasn’t mutual. It wasn’t there for me. The moon didn’t want me.

 

It didn’t want me—

She didn’t want me—

He didn’t want me—

They didn’t want me the way I wanted them—

They didn’t want me the way I wanted them to want me

They were just moons

They gave light to everybody at night

They were just kind people

I wasn’t some special case.

My world is so dark

It is hard not to chase any beam of light that crosses my path

I’m not used to receiving kindness

So, I turn every smile in my direction

Into a mine that is mine

And I dig with all my strength

Hoping to find

A gold heart that yearns for me

But the mine is never mine

And it is never even a mine in the first place—

Just me, in the very sticky muddy waters of unrequited love.

 

It feels like a lifetime ago.

My world has changed a bit. The muddy waters have dried up. I am on solid ground.

We decide to eat out tonight because there isn’t enough gas to make any proper meal at home. We take our five-year-old daughter along. We devour three balls of yellow kenkey at that food joint behind the Mega Church down the road. There is a beautiful full moon in the night sky, and it catches the attention of our baby girl. She keeps looking at it on our way back home and at one point, she happily bursts out—the moon is walking with us to the house! My partner looks at me and laughs at that innocent comment. This cute moment reminds me of that night, in the back seat of that trotro.



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Eamy Mireku

Eamy Mireku shares his world, feelings, thoughts and wild imaginings with you through his writing. He loves football (a loyal fan of Arsenal and Kumasi Asante Kotoko). His poems have been published by Tampered Press and other magazines.

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