It’s past midnight, and at that, past my bed time.
I watch as dad helps my mother load the boxes,
Into her royal blue Volkswagen.
It’s drizzling yet no one seems to care
The thought of a slippery road never seemed
To come across any ones mind.
Or perhaps leaving Johannesburg was inevitable.
The land lady walked into the garage
Lighting up yet another cigarette and
Placed into her pencil thin lips
Rollers still clinging on to her grey hair.
The adults talk amongst themselves
Discussing which way is best to attach
The car to the U-Haul
They send me off to bed, for a long journey awaited me
I hug my father goodbye and kiss him on the cheek.
When I woke up all I could see
Was cows grazing on vast fields of green
And a road that seemed to span into eternity.
My mother played Fernando Ortega
as the sun began to set,
Across that purple infused with orange
I could see the angel fire- mysterious stars
moving about the atmosphere like fire flies.
2 days later when I saw Table Mountain,
I know we had reached Cape Town.