A Day In Kampala
A flight of birds
Flaunt their enormous wings
Spying the light blue skies,
Of a city protected by trees
Whose sheer leaves
Dance with the January breeze
That hovers over
A people of different origins
A chrysalis unborn,
Wrapped tightly with love
Soon to flourish into a butterfly
This city is,
Of men and women
That toil in light and darkness
In strife for success
Thousand cyclists dot the downtown alley
Where potholes wait still,
Like crocs in a shallow river,
Preying a stray leg,
Or a taxi from a valley of hundreds
That,
From atop their harbor
Evokes in me
The feel of a king facing his people
Twilight sluggishly descends
Upon a tired city,
Ushering in the night lights
That glow of cedar upon the girls of the night,
The streets are quiet yet lively,
With music, liquor stores,
and casinos,
Stray dogs and vagabonds Populate the night,
Clearing the streets of the day's trash
I could still wake,
Oblivious of the morning sun,
Dazed from last night
And still know I'm in this lovely city
That bares untold stories
Of men that fostered it's blossom.
Isaac.O
Copyright © Isaac T Okurut | Year Posted 2015
|