I am Becoming My Father

Hands akimbo Every morn and dusk Trans loosed into despair With eyes fixed to the kraal to aide the sick cow lest she denies us milk. My father had a loose chair out of which minds interplayed He sat quietly in it with a silent heart of words "shall they eat?" His tiring muscles always at play to the rhythm of machine and engine My father is now me. He trekked valleys and hills Mounted metallic horses with ease He raced the old maps so quick To bring that old kavera back home with smiles So we washed the noisy saucepans at dawn To await upon him with yellow greasy shirt surmounted in sweat, I am becoming my father. Jb Wepukhulu