manenberg

short sharp wild turns, off the n2

into the long long vanguard drive

dark dangerous, in the night

blazing bright light

past a corner café there is still light

vagabond standing guard over turf

protectively protecting master’s

protectorate

manenberg

desolate isolated school, closed

a field of weeds windswept

breezing brown sand still sweeps

sight surrounded, wired

perpetually, finally to our

corner of courts, row upon row

named; womanly motherly affectionately

sweeping across sanded street

swiftly through a dark yard

under row upon row of sheets

white pink powder blue

clambering up cracked cement

steps skulkingly, force of habit

minding gaps rustling a lock

home;

a place called home

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