By the water tank where
I stood astounded by a sudded scream
Of a woman I listened
Then watched her
As she descended the green grassy hill
Stabbing the core of my ears,
My inner hole
The blue, black birds
Flew and left their supper behind
As she continued running and stabbing
My ears
For years
The Ugandan security would
Not allow any movement of
Congolese refugees-out of the camp
So, she continued running and stabbing my ears
For years
As the huge upstanding stick
Landed on the door of her back
Leaving a perfect design.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmmmm, very expressive. How sad. Let the world continue to hear their voices through your pen eyes, mariechantal.