Treasure Island

Comfort Ndlovu


8 Years Ago, Ago, Ago


My mother died
8 years ago, ago, ago,
My siblings cried
8 years ago, ago, ago.

God said: 'Die you must!
8 years ago, ago, ago;
The Lord said: 'Come ye to dust! '
8 years ago, ago, ago.

Anger plus grief stirred my heart
8 years ago, ago, ago;
I sadly sat in my smoky hut,
8 years ago, ago, ago.

My dreams for her fast flew away,
8 years ago, ago, ago;
My needles sunk in stacks of hay:
8 years ago, ago, ago.

My hope and pride disappeared
8 years ago, ago, ago;
Shame and insecurity re-appeared:
8 years ago, ago, ago.

I felt dejected as a wet hen:
8 years ago, ago, ago;
I came across troubles ten:
8 years ago, ago, ago.

Submitted: Thursday, June 28, 2012
Edited: Saturday, June 29, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

'Twas on 27 June 2005 when she left us alone, for good...

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