Memory

Last evening I went on pilgrimage

To Moholt cemetery

I planted a flower on your name

Hoping your memory

Waters and petals it into

The beauty you denied our world

At sunbirth

And I recalled

How, one day,

You emitted hope from your smiles

Singing away all doubts and all pains

And your voice became the libation

In a gourd of sacrifice

The rhythm of your waist beads

That provoked warriors into battle dances

And the mountain you carry behind you

That teased away the celibate priest on the other street

Are all now but eaten by termites

I shall come this way again

With you firmly rooted

In the backyard of my memory