Marangu

They climbed the hill
to Marangu
un-noticed, yet born
in dust and hard knocks

and centuries
of birth and death
informed
and un-informed

and today forged
of a new life:
A swaddling babe
damp to the underside

of a dutiful embrace.
A beaming mother
glad of the attention.
Proud.

And later
not much later
the boy who fed it
didn’t understand

why it foamed
at the mouth
after he fed
the meal

and wondered why
so many climbed
the hill to see
his still sister.

They locked up
his beaming mother
thinking it better she
were dead

less bother they said
as they descended
the hill
from Marangu.

5th XI 2015