Her songs.....

A bird sings and a woman sweeps her yard
Gently she draws lines on the earth’s floor
With soft whiskers of the forest straw
Her songs are riddles never to be forgotten
Or lost to her baby’s ears
For she sings with pride and humbleness
That would soothe his cries and turn his 
Frown into a toothless grin as he looks up to 
A face so dear and holds on to the fingers,
The hands that brought him life
Later on, he will not remember but he does 
Not forget the gentle caress that tucked him in
And put him to sleep at night.

But when a new dawn awakens 
And dark cloud hangs over him
When his mornings are no longer filled with 
Music but murderous thoughts
He would hide the little boy inside him under the thick
Veil of masculinity, wishing it to protect him
He does not remember but he will never forget
The songs of his mother, 
Riddles that should never be forgotten.

By Boineelo Jennifer Legotlwane ( Botswana)

photo credits: mitchellk.photoshelter.com