POETRY
(Copyright - Pierre du Toit)
...................................................................................................................................................................
Mother
Africa
She
sits
motionless
in
the running breath of dawn
ironstone
against
the day
her
skin preserving
fading night
in slowly spreading grey;
around
her
movement
children
clasp and climb
across
her lap their eyes
as
black as hers
their
limbs
as
thin
as
rough with sores;
by
noon the cobweb shadows
of
the dried out trees
lie
scattered over cracks
in broken nipples
and
the young ones seek the shelter
of
her sparsely shaded groin;
but
by evening,
as
they press
their
bones to hers,
she seeks the distant figure
of
a child whose eyes
are light
and whose skin against the night
mists her eyes with longing
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