Hello After Anthony M. Kwavah When a poem finds me in the midst of people, I bend my body to trap it and scrape its surface. I go with a few words—anything enough to exchange pleasantries. To find its delight. To let her know me. When I bend in my welcome, I give her my hand, like paying off a public transport fare, and I ask, How far can you take me? She smiles rather shyly, like the sun using clouds as her cover. What gives her light away must be the wind. I allow myself to