Poems from ngopes
Towards evening he used to cometo the local bus stop carrying his
flat wooden box on top of his head.
Its chambers filled with
ingredients...
He used to return home at dusk
with a sack of maize on his back
smelling of sweat and dirt.
He would sit on the veranda
his back against...
He used to return at dusk
from the fields
with a sack of maize on his back and
beads of sweat on his forehead
smelling of mother earth....
It was a little past midnight,
the raindrops continuedto tap on my roof made from blue Zinc sheet.
I looked outside, the
rain beads on the...
Memory of a forgotten city
A rusty lamp, half fill with kerosene, sits at one corner
of my room, its flame stirs on the wooden wall.
The...