For the ones who got away.
I can finally avail myself to you:
My aunt who raised me when
Mother went asunder
In the land of the rising sun.
To my cousin,
Who taught me how to use
These lips to create sound
From the mere wind.
Finally my uncle who showed me
Vice and vanity,
I’ll never forget our last walk…
To you all I say, rest in peace.
I could not grieve for you then,
I could not be with you then.
Life was a haze of torn papers,
Black mirrors, and dried tears.
Please forgive me for forgetting you.
For right now,
You have been avowed.
Fumo Chabalala is a 22-year-old poet, currently in his 3rd year studying towards Bcom Accounting at the University of Johannesburg.