Son of the Sun

Applauses were even, numbers and faces were odd. Clay was molded and fate washed her palm Sentences were bold as my story was told. One of a rusty heart of iron stitches One of haggard feet of million hitches. The flames danced bright and night was light Chalices were of pumpkin and flutes of cane Rites were roots, skins were dried and drums were drums Arms were flags gliding on in the ululations Chitenges were of savanna and tongues were of the zambezi. Hisses were blisses and kisses were riches Smiles were fireflies and pals were butterflies Years had piled, miles were fat, feet was bare and dust lost lust In kisses were riches and in stitchings were teachings My fist rattled a straw in the condensed country breeze. First of the sun and last of the sand Of elephant heart and eucalyptus will The tomb was torn, bones made skeleton and from earth crawled legacy. This cage is sheath, these ribs cradle an epitome of the African Child.