Africa Boy
Virginia Taynton
What do I do with this boy
Conning at me
From the foot of Kilimanjaro
Hailing me,
Smells of the Serengeti still on his breath?
How can my rough English words
Ever sing
Like the Kiswahili
That danced
From the lips of childhood friends?
How do I respond to the the touch of him
Who touched
Mummy-men on white-sheet beds,
Transported them
With pictures, songs, stories, then waved good-bye?
Could I ever make him worry for me—
Sleep impossible, food inedible—
The way he worried When men with guns took baby sister?
I ever give him joy
Like he felt when she was found
Sleeping in a field
Like the grass was her bed?
And how will I win him—
Who is kindness,
Who is strength and truth—
With my teenage love song?
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