The Last African Poem by Gordon R Menzies

She is the Last African…

Her skin aspired to night sky, resolute
in the face of hot savannah star light
her feet felt the earth without resisting
no shield between its ancient touch
caressed by kindly air with glistening
black hair mantling her small shoulders
there her breasts rise ever reminiscent
the first few of Us who stood upright
morning dew lingering then, still as
would a mantle of royal silver sheen

But she is leaving, lost and leaving
her tongue makes other sounds now
her eyes have forgotten what skin
remembers, what lips linger on
her children's children will move
into Day and lose the precious Night
She has wandered far, far too far
The Great Rift laments as would
a dried up, forgotten womb, and
Our homes there, where the first song
still echoes, are windswept and quiet
there will be no going back now

She is the Last African…