Reading 47 - Nambouwalu Last-Time
Nambouwalu Last-Time
Last-time for me
the unbroken green canopy
of the steeply rising Mbua hills;
painted white government buildings,
garish red-roofed frontier stores.
Last-time for me
to drink mango with my gang of guardian angels;
school children
feasted me last night
on turtle meat and banana
put me
shaking sick
on the morning bus
so smiling so.
Last-time for me
to share a carton of warm Nambouwalu beer;
telling light-weight stories
under shaded palm;
a fading zephyr
faintly regretful
full of charm.
Last-time for me
barefoot at the end of the wharf;
shaking hands
almost buoyant
on the idling boat
so smiling so.
Last-time for me to see my friends;
looking to the shore
until the distance became too great
and they turned away
breaking
the thin thread of our lives
forever.
The last time for me at Nambouwalu
like dying
that terrible.
