It’s the Africa in me
that loves the forest in which I wake,
that sees and hears its fauna and flora and revels in their names.
...
I stood and looked in the cool of the twilight -
the sun was peacefully sinking low,
her last rays glowing and lovingly encompassing
the world in a soft and rich, warm glow.
...
if I woke up black
I would sprint at once to buy
a sun-yellow dress
...
I could find no poetry in your soul;
I couldn’t teach your heart to sing;
You wouldn’t let my spirit fly;
And so I stand here on the moonlit beach
...
Icy mountain mornings laugh
in liquid trills.
Ridiculous puffs of fluff bounce
...
The moon makes patterns on my floor,
leaf-edged and almost still.
The thick blanket of night silence cushions
...
When dark crawls small
around the throat,
and soul-stones grind both grey
and shiver-slow,
...
Good morning, God
in this picture-book, pre-work moment.
Look at that pair of yellow-billed kites
...
Today I am going to pretend to be normal.
I am going to behave as I would have before that Friday.
I am going to hang up the washing
and I am going to weed the garden
...