Green House by Itumeleng Phambili

Itumeleng Phambili | Jan 9th, 2020 | poetry | No Comments


Walking past a green house.
An old woman sits on her lawn crossing her legs.
She wears her hair long.
Her wrinkles are many on one side of her face.
I cannot speak of her eyes
They burn holes into my mine.
Holes on my eyelids.
Holes on the inside of my iris.
I can feel them reading the questions I have placed on my nose.
Her breathing brews answers.
She tells me her chest is her treasure.
I believe her.

She tells me she knows my mother.
I smile and stretch my hand toward her lawn.
Her three-legged dog with purple fur barks and she laughs.
I don’t get joke.
She tells me she’s an old woman with treasure in her chest.
And that someday the chest will disappear and she will no longer breathe.
I read sadness and hope in her eyes.
All that is what a day allowed me to read.

Poet Bio

Itumeleng Phambili Tsagane is a qualified artisan and a poet. She began writing in 2010 and began performing in 2014, in Setswana and English.

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