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Home » Poetry » Issue 2 » Memories of a Hut

Memories of a Hut

I have dwelt in skyscrapers,
Shining, lofty, alluring,
I have dwelt in plastic shacks,
Ever threatening and vulnerable,
In fancy suburbs,
High walls and blue pools,
Not forgetting ekasi life,
Of canned experience,
Where the comfort of home
Was driven away by heat and cold.

I have been a denizen of here and there.
Yet, my memory is where my umbilical cord is,
Buried under mud and stone,
Of cow dung plastered floors and walls.
Of the alluring aroma of thatch,
Of the huge fire at the centre,
Surrounded by familiar laughter,
Smoke puffing out of the golden crown
My heart is always drooling miles away,
For my grandpa’s old hut, my home.

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