She thought, this is my lucky day, when the baas
didn’t beat her when she spilled the coffee, when
he didn’t squeeze her young breasts and take her
like a sweating bull when the missie went shopping;

when she wasn’t locked in the shed with no windows
for having forgotten to polish the horns of the kudu,
whose sad head hung over the mantlepiece gazing
at the twin tusks and assegais on the facing wall;

when they said she could go home for a night, even
to leave in the gold and pinks of the sunset, to walk
the dusty road through the wattle plantations, farms
where birds fluttered and dipped over the green corn.

The judge asked if she had anything to say. She said:
'I saw the black widow-birds dancing in the mealie fields.'

Extraordinary light in this. Pathos and the stories of Dineson glimmering in its weave. This will be moved to the editor's board, but later--so as not to be missed...

larry

I'm at a loss as to how to comment, awed by the depth of injustice and the lift of beauty alive in this poem.  Lynn

Ditto the above.  Beatiful work.  Thank you.

I can feel the depth of each word.... i am amazed. i'm glad i found this website, though my inferiority complex forbids me from saying more!

It is a wonderful gift to show not tell.....very effective example of it here.....

nicely written -- xo,  Michelle

Very nice piece. The only thing that puzzles me is the hyphen used between widow and birds. Why? Is it a hyphen or is it a dash? The answer could change the meaning of the last line.

I feel quite calm in her shoes, or bare feet more likely. She almost strikes me as knowing and accepting the inevitable, as in Mary's Pieta. Beautiful

ah, milner!  you knocked me off the front page after a run of only a few days!  congratulations...yours is an excellent poem and certainly deserves to be front and center.
best...
        always...
                   john

The widow-birds are hyphened, Jay. They are also called whidah-birds, but I've stuck to the version with which I am familiar.

This somehow mysterious “she” is a presence indeed, and the tone is very appropriate to what happens in the text and effective in terms of lyricism. I like this piece.
Vasile

Milner,  One quick thought before I'm off camping.....

She thought this is my lucky day, when the baas
didn’t beat her when she spilled the coffee, when

(in the last line of the poem....what she says is italizied......would it add anything to the piece I wonder to do it to what she thought...."this is my lucky day" in the first line???

Just to think about....

She thought this is my lucky day, when the baas
didn't beat her when she spilled the coffee, when

etc....

xo Michelle

Good thinking, Michelle. Happy camping.

milner

Invokes To Kill a Mockingbird in me; the injustice, the pride, the life that most of us are fortunate to never know.

What a beautiful, beautiful poem.

Pamme

This poem really touched me it is beautiful.
 Thank you Margaret Alice Threlfall.