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About This Poem
all the clan claps and sings
may flowers are still beautiful
taking their resolute resolve
to shoot out
to sprout with
ever-new life
they come
home in beautiful colours
like weaver-birds
on the ancient trees
all the clan claps & sings
new songs -
the elders entoning
with tongues of new speeches
new speeches of old wisdom -
oh, come, behold their signets
her may flowers
seeking within these chambers
the merry maidens
of my niger
& her long-acclaimed drummers
whose red-caps were capped
upon old eagle-feathers
that made her clansmen
celebrate her appearance
like mbari dancers, our amazons
of years gone with the ancients
or the swahili dancers
from the east
& the matebele warriors
from the south -
for:
all the clan did clap & sing
new songs
of years a-gone with the ancients.
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