Tuesday, October 4, 2016

The Divorce


Fudzikomele, who will believe this?
I walked through the front door,
And you said, “Get Out of my Face!”

You said, “Else, you will find yourself finished.”
Today, I walked through the front door again,
And you said: “Look at the time! Look at the time!”

Thank you; I stepped out through the front door again
I didn’t see a thousand flaming trees on the road.
Instead, hills fell over each other, royally, to greet me.

By daily dying, I’ve learned to be.
I hope my silences are accurate and true
Maybe, it’s true, in the dark eyes begin to see better.


2 comments:

  1. A very powerful poem. It touches the core of my being. Powerfully written. Simple words but very striking.

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  2. Heart wrenching issue in our diaspora communities. Available data suggests African immigrants have the highest divorce rates in US. A dear friend is going through one as I write.

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