Friday, August 7, 2009

Shade under a wilted Banana Tree

Joseph's shadow crosses over dusty trails -
dimly lit trails, draped with shade born of the dieing day's last limping light.
Voices of children and adults alike too drop shadows -
cast audibly under the presence of clouds mourning the sun.
Bundles of rape here, cabbage and tomatoes over there.
Neighbors eking a living from the labours of the land.
Man and shadow take no head, wandering down the road to home.

George lurches towards the market mini bus station -
one eyed stare gazing at the dimly lit path below.
The moon serenades the scenery with pale light;
veiled by dim light and masked by shadows,
pot holes and imperfections are gashes on the face of the road.
An eye disease devoured in a distant childhood,
another eye eyes the path lest the body tumbles.
Fixation halts falling amidst tell tale flaws on the red road.

Virginia sweeps furiously under an early morning sun -
paths once swept yesterday and the day before are touched up
and will be in need of touch up tomorrow.
Bundles of dry grass bound by string,
improvised brooms for a dusty world.
Later she'll sprint school bound - for lessons on 'civics' and 'maths',
Tomorrow she will sweep the path once more.

Ben's laughter echoes 'neath the ever blue sky
Dashing down the path from school, friends in tow behind
dressed in the crisp blues of school uniforms
running with accomplices in bare feet.
The sun's zenith has signaled the lesson's end
Afternoons contain endless football and running
Evenings Nshima and an early bedtime.

Agnes sits alone no more, yet her work has not ceased;
Methodical stirring, every day Nshima, every day stirring.
Her family, hypnotized with inferno, sits nearby.
Fire's flames are watched intently and so very closely
by those who care to stay warm amidst the lost sun light.
Charcoal is a lost luxury, the brazier lays vacant amongst dirt by the door way
scraps of wood is immolated for warmth, sacrificed to cook
Faces - young and old - congregated about the tiny pyre

Musungu sits observing; witnessing every crack on every face and every word under the sky
Eyes watching waiting, mind seeking elucidation of change
Thoughts drifting to opportunity and opportunity
Dried banana hanging from a wilting tree
the day passes slowly, forcefully, dragging Twapia behind
all those who walk her streets know her name
"We have suffered"

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