The day is languid
The heat is great
The dust intense
The thorn tree waits…
Silent it stands
And,
waits
A child laughs
A baby gurgles
A mother sings
Listen, oh listen,
To the voices ring
There is light and joy
Peace and happiness
In the village today
The heat is great
The dust intense
The thorn tree waits…
A scream rips
Through the African Sky
The sky darkens
The thunder rolls
The light turns to red
Red?
Red blood
As the child’s laughter
Is stilled forever
What?
Oh no… The mother is dead
The baby at her breast
The true warrior is dead
The father comes home
He beats his chest and cries
There is no joy
No happiness
He sighs with sorrow,
How many more must die
Beneath our African sky?
© Sharmaine Anna Dobson
