If I have to leave...

by D E Borrell

If I have to leave
I shall take from Africa
no assegais
But arrows of laughter in the eyes
from the Shona women
Sorting washing,
stitching sheets with me
in a mutual murmur;
The flicker of black hands
smoothing sheets
and my sons cradled in their shadow.

Laughter in the kitchen,
in the market, in the meetingplace;
shrewd glances over buisness
Appraising eachothers skills.

Black hands helping with sickness;
and that one wet night
as I drove her through darkness
the awful pain of her childbirth
in my womb

If I have to leave
I shall take from Africa this strenght,
this strange bond of women.