WAITING CAN ALSO BE AN ACTIVE PROCESS

Lake Kariba










PATIENCE AND POWER

Last year we sat for hours, waiting for fuel;
Masvingo, Mutare, Harare. Kariba,
Each station closed, the forecourts teeming
With quiet men, waiting like hunters, missing nothing.

Young men, waiting for a bite on the line, a call,
A sign from the distant dust, a white pick-up, a nod
And we follow them into the wild, across tracks in the bush,
To driveways where the prey waits; drums, hidden under shelter.

Sometimes real money changed hands, the notes plentiful enough;
Sometimes coupons, bought abroad by electronic hunters.
Always the waiting, nothing happens here without a queue.
Young vendors hiss their distractions; ices, sweets, raw carrots.

Now, with fuel in the tank but still waiting, we are hunters,
Scanning the political landscape for signs of climate change.
Our elders, urging patience and forbearance, offer supplications,
To ancestors revered, remembered for patience, and for power.




Copyright Madresicilia2008