Charles Mungoshi

We rarely talk now.
Between us
the children are quite happy
playing Indians and Cowboys
...

It is always very hard
to have or to find something to say.
if you honestly tell the others
...

You should have remained
hidden in the shadow of the tree
your hand raised at half-mast
(undecided whether to cover or not
...

Now there won't be any need
to tell our children
about the history of the struggle
of our gallant people's fight
...

In our land
We found a bird
that sings.
A bird
...

He would have been one of the oldest inhabitants
of the territory, this dove, his ancient claws
now turned into dull grey prongs.
...

Now your body begins
to preach its own truth
the truth you have tried
...

Before I started out here
My father said:
Do you need to go all that way
...

Put a handle
To these things
But do not let
the handle
rot in your hands.
...

freezing cold night
only the continuous
eerie screech-buzz whistling
...

You must now be quite familiar
With the ways in which mice travel
All over under the stubble
In the newly-harvested fields.
...

I have kept your advice, Mother,
adhered to it with a tenacity
you'd never believe me capable of.
I have locked my door every night
...

There is a young green shoot
pushing out and through
the rotting olden trunk
of the dead parent papaya tree
in a public square
in Maputo.
...

He ran away from home
where, he thought, all pain
began.
...

For one whole week
it rained without a
break.
...

Intense blue morning
promising early heat
and later in the afternoon,
heavy rain.
...

Dotito is our brother
He is strange
He will not play with us on the streets.
...

The torrid silence of the October sun.
Miles upon miles and miles of burnt-out plains.


Suddenly you realise
you are talking loudly to your
shadow.
...

You, talking to my mother
and sisters in the house.
Outside, my father and I
...

Now the pumpkin is ripe.
We are only a few days
from the year's first mealie cob.
The cows are giving us lots of milk.
...