Photo of griot kora virtuoso, Sona Jobarteh.
This piece has 10 words on the first line. Each subsequent line has a decreasing word count.
. . .
They filed out of the enchanted hut with grim faces.
“Woman! You have grieved our ancestors,” proclaimed the speaker.
Drums rolled as the villagers awaited her sentence.
“You are no longer part of us.
Leave now, and return no more.”
Looking back one last time
At their forlorn faces,
She inhaled deeply,
Then whispered,
“Freedom!”
. . .
First published on Lit Up
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