A Day in AfricaEnglish poem by: Elouwdi Smit
The dry grass rustles against my leather boots,
the deep orange of dawn creeping over the tree roots.
In the distance, the striped mongooses run together,
their tottering as light as a feather.
The orange dawn in the sky is replaced by a deep blue,
the wind a melody of a pigeon’s coo.
Below me is a golden maze of rivers,
the ferocity of the rapids leaving me with shivers.
Cracks appear in the surface as the midday heat beats down
the air silent with every critter hiding underground.
The smell of the thatch roof calms me,
the green horizon all I can see.
My ears hear the arrival of a guest,
the big grey giant on a cool down quest.
He splashes and rolls, the air full of his glee,
the puddle of water his playground underneath a Marula tree.
I taste the crisp and bitterness of the beer,
as shadows cross the plains when dark clouds appear.
The clouds quickly come together,
the ferocity of change only in African weather.
Against the deep purple of the storm,
a deep rumble announces a thunderstorm.
Lightening rips through the dark sky,
sheets of rain thunder down, leaving no surface dry.
The storm clears, countless stars shining bright
a crackling fire a welcome sight.
My night ends with a distant hyena cry,
and I wish I'd never said goodbye.