On the hives in color,
On the summer clothes,
On the tables and fruit,
I’m looking for it,
In the knotted buns,
On the wings of birds,
On the wings of hurricanes,
I’m looking for it,
On the surprised lemons,
On the necklaces of mothers,
On the turned over baskets,
I’m looking for it,
On the trust granted
With wheat and vines,
On your sunny skin,
I’m looking for it,
( to be continued)
Sur les ruches en couleur,
Sur les habits d’été,
Sur les tables et les fruits,
Je le cherche,
Dans les chignons noués,
Sur les ailes des oiseaux,
Sur les ailes des ouragans,
Je le cherche,
Sur les citrons étonnés,
Sur les colliers des mamans,
Sur les corbeilles retournées,
Je le cherche,
Sur la confiance accordée
Au blé et aux vignes,
Sur ta peau ensoleillée,
Je le cherche,
( à suivre)
Categories:
chignons, appreciation, encouraging, happiness,
Form: Free verse
She wakes up before dawn. Mounts
her cardbox cubicle on the pavement
at a street corner. It is chilly and windy.
Without delay she pours cooking oil
into the aluminum container perched
on a three-legged stand under which
there are popping flames of fire.
In the yellow bowl she stirs the flour
with vigour . The fire is warming her up.
With her hands she squeezes the flour
into fist-sized lumps and drowns
them into the blistering oil .
Over a short space of time the blazing
oil turns the floury swellings into brown
round buns commonly known as magwinyas.
With her fork she pierces each baked brown
roll and shrugs it off into another vessel.
She yawns. The heat is soothing. It is coaxing.
She has to sell these chignons to eke out a living.
A single parent with four dependents. Like a thief
something sweeps her away. Siesta says sister let us go…
Her mouth is agape, there is a cascade of saliva
going down her chin , down where lies her vessel. The
sun’s rays are peeping. Her customers of school children
and factory workers halt and scream, “wow!”…and proceed.
Categories:
chignons, family, parody, satire,
Form: Narrative