Its importance reverberated
in the back of my mind
as the day began to unwind.
constantly remind
-ing
myself to carry it
but paradoxically
brushing it aside.
“later”
I said
But as the clock
struck midnight
later that night,
I stood,
freezing in its absence .
By all measure
an experience now forever
inscribed into memory.
Always carry your sweater
if your travelling around midnight.
© Hudson Biko
i never let them in to begin with
they unlocked the doors
and
broke through the walls of confidentiality
leaving their fingerprints
and their identities
in its insides
releasing mine outside
to awaiting eyes
prepared to scrutinize
when they weren’t
even fit enough
for mine
©
they came in
and took everything.
stole from a grasp
still masked
from impropriety.
and i
sat
there
;
like a deer in headlights.
staring at the
stained wood
Confused
by this new world presented to me.
I sat there,
devoured by anger
but drained
by disappointment.
Because they knew me
and they still
stole
from
me.
they came in and took everything
as
I
sat there,
grasping
©
I stood there
In a patch of dirt
That
somehow supported
maize stalks
and
side walks.
Both preceding
hues of green
in the form of tress
That gathered
in patches we call forests
,
Each fathered
By birds, herds
and
swarms
of bees
floating in a breeze
Broken only by the hills.
Hills
that
rolled
into
the
Sunrise
.
I stood there
thinking about how this isn’t everywhere
Thinking.
Then stopping
myself because
this was
beautiful.
Breathing in the untouched air
marveling in its tranquility
and its innocence.
I stood there,
in a patch of dirt,
that somehow supported maize stalks and side walks.
© Hudson Biko
hudson biko 