Canny Amah Poet I do not know?

The Wanderer and His Fire-Wood

i have taken this hunting
escapade to the rarest of forests
even to fourth road junction
near the red-carpet streams
where sages of the clan told 
the hunch-backed crocodile dwells -
i have come across the famous 
thorny paths across ntembe river
near the ancient torn huts
where the old weird nnakoroche
dwelt before the world went
to the first of the two wars -
is it only squirrels that find
access to the hunter's bag?
is it only monkeys that jumped
across the trees that brim
the forests of these natives?
i have also stumbled near 
the hidden treasury of the moon
with night angels eavesdropping
and tracing my footsteps -
& heavy droplets of tears 
like some drumming rain-droplets
followed the wanderer's
steps across the crisscrossing
of lands, rivers, seas & mounts
but the fire-wood refused
to be gathered & taken home

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Vicky Tsiluma October 27, 2012 at 12:23 AM Well written! I love the tale of the hunter and what you said about squirrels - it shows the irony of one calling himself the hunter. And the part about the firewood refusing to be gathered gives credence to the term wanderer and springs to mind tales of forests and beliefs that went with them. Lovely write this!