a man

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.

 

Not handsome;

But chiselled like a soapstone sculpture

created by those who never knew him.

 

A man.

 

© Cleopatra Chipo Kuuya 2004

 

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