Three
Trees
Three ghosts of trees
swim on a hillside
in the mist.
Left behind, the light
of the full moon
shines a faint trail –
Loud, the river repeats
a stencil of waves
across the black air –
Three ghosts of trees wait
for hanging three
undying messages upon.
Imfolozi Reserve
Crooked thorn tree
overlooking a green valley
Purple distance
ploughing up clods of cloud
Sky of white glass
sharpening sun’s fingers
Black hawk
twisting off a thermal.
The Day I Heard
(for Gabi Nkosi: 4 Feb 1974 – 26 May 2008)
Gun-grey day.
A big brown horse
bent at a lake.
The hills in a haze.
Slow horse surrounded
by the rowing of water.
Metal-black trees.
A cock with
a hoarse voice crowing.
Sky with a hole.
The light leaking out
all the way from beyond.
Suicide Note
(after shooting his girlfriend three times in the head)
Just so you will learn
A lesson
So you will never do it again
Because
In order to be a man
Because
I told you
You must listen
And
Respect me
And
Never do it again
Because
Say
Sorry
Because
I love you.
Survival
We who accept survival as our password,
We who accept incompleteness as our blessing,
We who dress in blindness and in faith,
We who do not know the colour of our palms
nor the weight of our feet upon water,
We who have dust in our mouths all day
and stones on our tongues instead of songs,
We who quench fire with fire all night
We know that wings are not the only ladders
to the dark, that dumb stones fly too
in the hands of crawling children,
We who accept survival as our curse.
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