Month: March 2016

Am I Afrikan?

My passport is green. The glorious green of aloe leaves or trees in late summer.

My skin is freckled. Flickered with flecks of moments spent under this sun.

My heart breaks. A hurting history means I watch flowers grow from stained mud and feel petals fall on graves. (more…)

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Buildings look like libraries

Buildings look like libraries โ€“ especially at dusk.

The windows are arranged like books on a display shelf; some open and some closed; every story affected by the light and lines.

Look, in that frame a light turns on and a tired woman dressed in grey abandons her briefcase on the kitchen table. In the yellow square beside her scene, an elderly man leans against the windowpane and drinks the dying day. There are pot plants on his windowsill and lines under his eyes. Who does he see in the fading sky? (more…)