Again, a bright orange yellow dawn,
that’s suddenly extinguished.
When it was, it promised sun ‘n baking heat,
a day promised of sun, dry and sweaty, living.
But now it’s extinguished abrupt-
I know not the season, nor the day’s promised weather.
It may rain, hailstones and thunder-
solid grey cloud invading the now cloudless skies;
the sun may disperse the mists and cold
bake to a turn the earth in its yellow glare.
I hear the moans of death,
women keening, children crying;
today, this morning-
are my ears plugged, hearing only wind?
why’s death with life mixed
in this beautiful African morning?
I hear a dirge, a keen, a wail
some of her precious children.
Yet she’s eternal, is mother
yet the sun will rise, hot ‘n bright,
the moon will sail the skies, day ‘n night:
your children will be, and increase.
©GayUganda 02 Jan. 08