Friday, 8 April 2011

For My Friend from Soweto (d.March 2011)

I didn’t have to find out this way,

But I did.

Wind raging outside as I heard him say

You’re gone.

I didn’t have to heave back a sigh

But I did

That slow smart grin at cheeky eye

In Sandton

Coloured time we had,

Running on our nerves

You taught me the Chiefs

Holding your son aloft

“A new striker is born”

Coloured time we had

You in your bubble of girls

I, on the edge of the drop,

But you kept a hand out

In case it, just in case.

But remember what I said

“See Sello”

That day, after they caved your head

“Wake Sello”

That week, tube up, hands bound

“Call Sello”

And we gathered round?

“There are people who love, there are people who call you”

You came back then, half of you,

Maybe a bit more, no soft shuffle of hands

But the glint hiding just, just, just a little.

We stopped running colour, then.

Maybe I should have dared to, then.

I have reasons, they mattered, then.

I have things, useless now, but then.........

So, Sello, hear Sello, wake Sello

There are people who love you still

And you lived for us then

Though I lose you once more

There are those who live for you still

©Ali Naqvi

No comments:

Post a Comment