Phelelani Makhanya
At dusk;
an old lady jumps off from a bus.
She snails on the bus steps
like she is resisting the descent;
like the bus arrived at her
bus stop too soon.
She left at dawn to queue
for her pension grant.
Like a committed guard,
her teenage grandson is already
waiting at the gate.
She walks towards him
like she is crossing a bridge
made of thatch ropes and broken glass.
She dips her hand
between her breasts.
She pulls a worn-out leather purse.
The grandson’s hand is a hawk;
a predator of all things paper.
He pulls out a stack of banknotes
from the purse.
The old lady casts puppy eyes
on her grandson.
The grandson’s eyes
parade untameable lava.
He throws the empty purse
back at his grandmother’s face.
The old lady walks towards her house
like she is walking in a quagmire of shadows.
She wishes her mud rondavel hut
can run and meet her halfway.
Even tonight, she will be boiling stone for dinner,
as her grandson walks victoriously down the street,
whistling;
calling for his gang.
PHELELANI MAKHANYA is a writer born is South Africa, Maphumulo. His work has been published in major South African literary journals like The New Contrast, New Coin, Botsotso Journal and Avbob Poetry Project. His poetry has also appeared in The Kalahari Review and Praxis Magazine Online. He has performed his poetry around the country which includes Poetry Africa 2011 and Poetry Africa 2018. He was shortlisted for the 2021 Time of the Writer Poetry for Human Rights. His poem Vapour won the 2021 Avbob Poetry Prize (reflection on COVID-19). He has two published poetry collections, This Time I Shall Not Cry and My Father’s Blazer.
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