Angel Fire


It’s past midnight, and at that, past my bed time.

I watch as dad helps my mother load the boxes,

Into her royal blue Volkswagen.

It’s drizzling yet no one seems to care

The thought of a slippery road never seemed

To come across any ones mind.

Or perhaps leaving Johannesburg was inevitable.


The land lady walked into the garage

Lighting up yet another cigarette and

Placed into her pencil thin lips

Rollers still clinging on to her grey hair.

The adults talk amongst themselves

Discussing which way is best to attach

The car to the U-Haul

They send me off to bed, for a long journey awaited me

I hug my father goodbye and kiss him on the cheek.


When I woke up all I could see

Was cows grazing on vast fields of green

And a road that seemed to span into eternity.

My mother played Fernando Ortega

as the sun began to set,

Across that purple infused with orange

 I could see the angel fire- mysterious stars

moving about the atmosphere like fire flies.

2 days later when I saw Table Mountain,

 I know we had reached Cape Town.



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