There’s a black child (in answer to fanie olivier)
There’s a black child
finding his way with goats through the cliffs
and his hair is blown in the wind
while grasses are braiding galloping around his feet.
He knows of the urge to want more,
how to take with force,
to draw his cross on the ballot paper, to say his say
and his feet walk on a dusty road
and in the dark night some of the tribe
gather around the fires, where spears are being melted
leaders armed with rifles arrive, who talk about plundering
torture and murder
and they are laughing as the war is over,
on what their hands fall they can take,
when suddenly they strike
a shaking white woman is raped
and there’s darkness hanging black over the country,
a darkness that no light can pierce,
with black faces smiling
in a circle around the fire.
[Reference: “by ruacana” (at ruacana) by fanie olivier.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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