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Saturday, October 1, 2011

I almost Did

My son just called
 and said the militants
 dropped their guns
 and crossed their arms.

The noise of the celebrations
makes the creek red
like those who fought
for a tomorrow
that died yesterday

 habit or beloved
 he said it once
I love you
and will take
 care of you
he even signed
the piece of legal nonsense
that made me his.

Twenty years on
we still sleep two spoon
in the middle of the bed holding hands,
but sometimes I wonder,
am I his habit or beloved?

went to my uncle
for the traditional pounded yam
he had just married a woman
from across the seas
we came for the ceremony
to wash her legs into the family

 She could not cook
 Our breakfast
But gave us two tiny slices of bread, eggs and tea
no moonlit tales
had never heard of tortoise
We felt sorry for uncle
 There was no pounded yam
nor fresh palmwine for grandpa
the saddest thing however,
she did not allow us to wash her legs too.

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