Poems from ngopes

He used to  return at dusk from the fields with a sack of maize on his back and  beads of sweat on his forehead smelling of mother earth....
It was a little past midnight, the raindrops continuedto tap on my roof made from blue Zinc sheet. I looked outside, the rain beads on the...
Memory of a forgotten city A rusty lamp, half fill with kerosene, sits at one corner of my room, its flame stirs on the wooden wall.   The...
Together we went off into the mountains An ebon pillar of tradition seemed he, in his garb of old fashioned fabric aloft between the wide...
On a cool afternoon in Januarythe Sun comes through the pair of drab-gray curtains over the sinkon the kitchen table, near the stacks of...

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