AFRICAN MOTHER

She wakes up every morning
With a hoe and a basket
With a backed bundle
As the morning birds praise her

Her husband long gone
To join the land defense force
That is legal in its eyes
And a vice in others

She wakes up every morning
Amid wails at the market place
And among the fallen her lover rests
As if he had worked harder

Her lover long gone
And the gun with which he was fallen
Hunts for more justice
That gives birth to society of widows

African mother
A widow at tender age
A mourner of the moment
A sign of justice

An African mother
A mother of an orphan
A mourner of the moment
A sign of justice.

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