From What the Welsh and Chinese Have In Common
Native African Revolutionaries
As I watch the moon
casually rising tonight,
I am reminded of the hippos of Botswana.
Every night they rise out of still pools
Walls surround the mango orchards.
The hippos of Botswana travel like darkness,
darkness that penetrates any barrier.
The hippos of Botswana stand
in mango orchards reflecting
the moonlight like grey planets.
At dawn there are no ripe mangos
Next Vanity of Sorrow