If love were a drop and sacrifice a shade of red
Mother would be an ocean of burgundy
Her love may be laced with tequila
And her sacrifice tinted by purple regret
But the warmth of her heart
Like hot coffee on harmattan morning
Is better than soft fresh bread
The folds of her ankara are for hiding things
Rumpled notes, chicken feather and her children’s shame
When hunger challenges her to a fight
She ties her gele on her robust waist
And charges for the beast with an axe
Or an iron resumé, depending
After the war she returns
With her pride as casualty
And a pocket full of coins
To buy us a day of luxury and two lollipops
Black will gray
Supple breasts will surrender to gravity
What is flesh will turn to dust
But the waves of this ocean
Will rise and crash and rise again.
This poem was published in the 6th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
Please click here to download.
Read – Shero – Mimi Machakaire (Zimbabwe)
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