Mirage Poem by Frank Bana

Dust circles in motion
Heat dance on my shoes
Haunted by search and memory
Taunted by Kalahari day
Thirsty clouds break through the skies
Cricket armies start to hum
Pula e tla leng?
When will the rains come?

From the skies no word arrives
No echoes from the koppies
Only canopy of blue
That covers both the truth and dust
That would envelop me in lies.

A brief caress of breeze
On dry leaves of Acacia
But no relief for me
Perpetual on the desert ridge
Which overlooks but cannot reach
To freedom's sharp and subtle edge

The breath dies in the vacuum.

I reach out one last time to touch
The face of liberation
Before it disappears for years,
A mirage of the desert sun.