and the night is black and dense with death

the goat stands still.
the stars are falling,
they burn the grass
and the wind takes

the smoke uphill.
the goat stands still.
the earth trembles
and no bird will sing.

only a hungry child
cries in a corner,
silently, no voice
rises anymore

out of this pain,
this dry little throat,
and flies crisscross
his putrid eyes

now i ask, i ask,
where are these angels
out of  missionary booklets,
strutting class rooms

where are the pious helpers,
helplessly enlightened,
their love for the earth,
will it embrace this child?

will you take him or her
in your arms for the last
and frightened gasps,
allover scabies and dirt

will you look in these eyes
they ask you a question
you cannot answer
but by presence

will you help
to cross the bridge
holding this hand
or will you walk on

Not even dogs bark now,
and the night is black
and dense with death.


memories, Uganda