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A woman must always keep a journal A woman must always keep a journal
by Abigail George
2018-11-07 09:18:36
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A woman must always keep a journal

    I watch the fragments of
the sun in the history of water.
    Agriculture reminds me
    that nothing dies a natural death.
    Little birds build the world
    they want with despair.
    They are as thirsty as my universe is. Everything is bleak here. Made of hardship.
    Solitude and loneliness.
    Man, wake up your soul on this Sunday morning!
    You’re a collection of essays.
    Hope and suffering. The blues.
    A country made of coconut
    milk and ice cream. Autumn.
journal0001_400    There is blessing, nature, the
    maturity of meat in your voice.
    We have both been getting on
    in years. Two aunts walked
    down the aisle. Farewell Atlantis.
You’re a beautiful stranger to me now.
   Even the moths want to be

    accommodated now in this
post-apartheid South Africa.
    There is a music school behind his
    wet stone eyes. Aspects of love.
    This is why the sea does not
    glitter anymore during the day.
    I was happy once when I was
    connected to you. When you
    held me in your arms and kissed me.
    There when I found the sun.
    The sky was ancient there until
    I came upon the sun. The moon-
    light had no melody or chords.
    It was raining men and women and
when the radiant sun came out
it rained golden.

I came to life in her tiny kitchen in Cape Town.
    I was the polite and fragile one.
    I used her steaming pots and
    clay face mask. Her bath oils
    and her umbrella. Her flat was near
    the mountain. I would drink
her tea all by myself in the afternoons
    before she came home from work.
She belonged to the autumn asphalt jungle.

***********************************************************************
Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"All about my mother" & "Brother Wolf and Sister Wren"
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400


   
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