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Changing Seasons.
On Thanksgiving day it shone brightly
And the following day it disappeared;
Lately, the mornings had become cooler and so had the nights;
The squirrels seemed to get busier and hurried,
Now l think l understand:
For the sun shines no more on the island!
Yet l see it still in the yellow and brown leaves
Of the maple trees that are strewn on the ground.
Soft winds mourn and the poor robin grieves.
In a battle they will sure lose sooner than later,
Shades of red leaves cling tightly to the stems;
One by one they let go and to the ground they clutter.
The light rains are a wonder;
Such sweet music all day and into the night!
In my dreams, as the season changes,
When my mind is relieved of the body asleep,
How so joyously l dance to mbira and marimba music!
And for each new day l am grateful;
Grateful for the gift of life;
Grateful for my family and friends the world over...
poem
by
Tafadzwa Matamba
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