Terence Msuku Poet Prose Poetry

Shuffle Shuffle

Shuffle shuffle 
Hands shake as he pulls a stack of papers from his pocket
Shuffle shuffle
He finds a crumpled piece and reads the numbers inscribed
Shuffle shuffle go his feet as he hobbles to a pay phone
Just reaching it and picking up the receiver, is a milestone
Relief comes over him as he hears a ring tone
The gruff voice on the other side suggests 
She is not alone. She has moved on 
And how could she not after so long?
Much emotion he can hear in her tone
She wishes him well and then he hears a click
Shuffle shuffle 
Hands shake as he searches for a number
Someone whose hand he can shake 
someone who won't judge him
 Who'll give him a fair shake
Dials the number hoping it'll ring, 
No answer
Frustration sets in, he cracks open a bottle
Takes a big swig, feels the burn in his throat
And heads back to the homeless shelter
He loathes so...
Shuffle shuffle
The sounds of weary feet

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