The Red Wheelbarrow Poetry

Photograph

Olwethu Mxoli

In this photograph my mother doesn’t know she will be my mother.

Her dress fans out like a sigh around her cinnamon legs

and her braids fly like a dream.

I can hear her laughter singing through the sepia

her eyes teasing above her shoulder

“Look at me,” they say.

“Look at me.”

(published in This Recurrence of Light, Ecca, 2022)

Featured at The Red Wheelbarrow on 4 August 2022 as one of the Ecca poets

Phelelani Makhanya There is a little yellow house at the corner of the street, where the jacaranda has painted the paving purple. Every...

Basil du Toit The rude vegetables are up to no good again, succumbing to irresistible inflations, their growth-tips, tautly congested,...

Ari Sitas After a day of stoning and gas an ancient chore beckons by the ocean’s lip - a crowd heaving, heaving, sifting through the sand...

Post: Blog2_Post