Zimbabwe

the call of the unheard voice
the powerless, walking hand in hand
in a seeming miracle of survival
a land where the rushing waterfall plummets into the Zambezi
contradictory free falling water
a nation of oppressed men, women, children
asking for their thirst to be quenched
for the liberty of one meal a day
their pleas go unheard
until now, when they shout in the settlements
in the towns
in the ravaged farm lands
freedom.

Dawn

Their chests move
in gentle synchronicity
the deep breathing dreaming
of early morning
the darkest hour,
windows mist from their breaths
the stars were optimistic earlier
 laughing, shimmer glow watchful


as they are sleeping
the stars watch, weeping
the ebb in safe keeping
knowing they are fading.

Evening

She says
she swallowed a cactus
her stomach pricks and surges
she says
there are rats scratching and crawling
in her head
in the shadow of the doorway
a familiar soothing voice, long remembered
a cool bath
water trickles down her back
under a crystal star studded sky

Meeting

An unaccustomed, tired faded place
For a fevered aching heart
The heart that waded
Through swamps of sorrow
And long, dry dusty plains
With nothing to quench her quiet thirst
This half heart
walking the midnight deserted streets of longing
Met a fellow night traveler's heart
He heard a fracture deep in the cliff face
He put his ear to the ground
He understood.

decade child

She dives into the wave
diving into the present,
falling from the past
she swims towards the current
quietly confident
unscathed by reality
she looks around at the other swimmers
some sink
some jump high
she holds strongly onto herself,

wading further
she takes a foreign hand
she moves into something new
a sandbank between childhood
and maturing into a new wave
higher, darker, different
frighteningly beautiful.

Point Zero

The thermometer deceives
my emotional temperature
will break the glass
shatter the lines,
the pain fever lasts and lingers
relentless,
no liquids can soothe
the delirium, pulsing
though arteries
shooting shock waves into
the war torn heart
relentless,
alone
sheets tossed aside
endless nights with no dawn
just aching dreams of liberation.

This Old House

washing churns
toast burns
milk curdles,
the cat waiting for tinned tuna, learns
to delay
my empty hand yearns
for a lifeline hand in mine


tea seeps
alarms set and reset
dark cornered regret