Not short, not towering,
but with a presence that precedes him.
A smile though rare;
it clears the thickest storm.
Hair and skin glow an opulent black,
of those that came before him.
Yes a man,
Lips thick; eyes a warm chocolate black.
Arms not muscular but their strength has carried generations.
On thin legs he has travelled through nations.
But chiselled like a soapstone sculpture
created by those who never knew him.
© Cleopatra Chipo Kuuya 2004