This is a poem by Mongane Wally Serote, a black South African author writing (mostly from outside his country) during the apartheid years. Poignant, and subtly rythmic, these few verses really caught my attention:
it is a dry white season
dark leaves don't last, their brief lives dry out
and with a broken heart they dive down gently headed for the earth,
not even bleeding.
it is a dry white season brother,
only the trees know the pain as they still stand erect
dry like steel, their branches dry like wire
indeed is it a dry white season
but seasons come to pass.
The pertinent coda seems, thankfully, to be: It did, indeed.
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5 comments:
Doing a school assignment on this poem, it's such a deep poem with alot of feeling, i believe there is alot to say about this particular poem.
piece of shit darky sympathizing poem
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