Man-Children: Tribute To John Dau.

Two men alone with their wounds, following footpaths in the tall grass so as not to be seen by militia. Stealing pumpkins from farmed fields chewing on grass stems to ease hunger Listening to the sound of frogs And followed to water. On guard, always, at the pools That is where they gathered Learned how to submerge the body With just a nose showing above water. Hungry, thirsty, but mostly cold. No clothes, forty-degrees F, staying close, To conserve body heat While Hyena's and Leopards lurked. Finding other refugees along the way Comforted in the fact of comraderie yet it was harder to move unseen with more bodies and food became scarce like water. The Kangen riverbed was barren hot, hot sun one adult amongst boys The Lost Boys of the Sudan. Finding muddy pools of water, they ate the mud Just for the moisture, easing the pain Tongues swollen, skin grey No voices. Utilizing everything, they drank their own urine. Singing Christian songs Asking God for water he gave them vulture-ridden bodies along-side a swamp. A swamp! drank and drank found tortoises and roasted them with grasshoppers First protein eaten in so long, sat in those marshes and tried to regain strength. Crossed the Gilo, eyeballing the crocs eyeballing them Dodging bullets from Ethiopian rebels some lived. Six months of starvation to reach Kenya. There are camps along and throughout Eastern Africa And in each one, Death reigns as the new and forever King of the Motherland.