POEM – AFRICAN NIGHTS

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Syrup-thick African nights stroked
my skin, bathing me in
womb-warm stickiness.
Pupil-black African skies sprinkled my way
with pearl-sweet shafts of affection.
Blood-rich African earth powdered
my feet with silk-soft smoothness,
pillowing my walk with unconditional
care…

So why am I stranded on this northern shore
skewered by winter’s blast?
How come I am cornered under
the stained-orange glare of a bleak
plane-streaked sky? Why are
worm-filled clods of cold mud caking my
feet?

What did I do so wrong to lose
my African nights?

africannights

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2 responses »

  1. Hi Sara, yes I lived there as a child for a while. This poem was written after I’d returned briefly to say good-bye to my dying father, so there’s a lot of rather heavy-duty unresolved family stuff sloshing around behind the sentiments expressed.

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