October Dreams

Dreams carry me back to sun scorched earth

deep fishers lace the ground like a perverted web

no reprieve from the heat, sun, a yellow fire globe

praying for rain, longing for its sweet scent

night falls and thunder is heard but no rain

 

In the dark I’m lost, fears creep in

death comes in darkness, claims another

one more is gone; who will cry for them

surely there must be one who will mourn

lowering my head, eyes closed, throat thick

 

Tears sting, vision blurred, pain in my chest

hot breeze dries my cheeks, my eyes are grainy.

there will be another grave dug and filled

anger and bitterness wedged in my throat

I don’t want to be here anymore

 

Movement toward me its sister, beads in hand

kind eyes, she’s been here forever

she attempts to comfort me; I look away

death is part of her world day in and out

I don’t want to hear of angels and heaven

 

Orphanages should be a thing of the past

children should not be discarded

medicine should be affordable

too much sickness, too many deaths

little wooden coffins are absence

 

I dread October, the month of dark dreams

waking I smell the dryness

the quarrelling air of that place

tears erupt; I tell myself I’m okay

I’m lying, I’m not okay, my soul is scared

I mourn to this day

Author's Note

Angola stole my breath and broke my heart. In one unforgettable year, I witnessed beauty that defied words and sadness that lingered long after I left.