Feet tired
and sore:
But there goes Mamma.
She travels streets of
the dusty city
From one corner
to another.
Her grass-woven basket
is well-balanced
on her head
& laden with bananas…
So hot the sun;
That even ants make haste
To vacation—
But there goes Mamma.
Copyright © Vusumzi Matomane 1999
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