We gathered behind the herd of calves,
Separated from their mothers.
The green grass licked with dewy leaves
Our skins.
Thick stripes of dew dripped down
My legs,
I mused several mornings
Gathered together their dew.
We drove the calves far into the green trees,
Where they cannot sneak back to eat
Groundnuts and cowpeas from the fields.
I sang jokey songs
With the boys of my herd, but I recall
You were the one we escaped from them,
To dig up from wet soil
Baboon’s onions & wild roots.
Eight years now, I have not seen you.
Last year, I returned to the homestead
Where we played in the light
Of the full moon.
One half of the broken bowl of clay
Held the memories of rains.
The two shea butter trees we climbed
Stand dry & leafless.
Read – Philetairus’ Nest – A Poem by Bongani Zungu, South Africa
