Tafadzwa Matamba (Zimbabwe)

A lone white sail boat
Slowly gliding south-wards.
The mournful cry of the seagull,
Soon swallowed into fog's belly
Camouflaging my world with so much easy.
Such a gray day it is!

Rain! Rain! Rain!
All day long showers fall unabated;
Mother earth quenches her thirsty.

Outside the wind whistles,
Caressing mother earth's gonads;
Leaves rattle on the ground;
The wind continues on its secret journey:
Area of origin and destination details unknown,
Yet for centuries untouched it has blown.

The rain has stopped.
Stars shine brightly
And the crickets never stop singing.