Primeval forests dying to
remnants of jungle; fast cars
take you home, feeling
dejected - and yet you’d find
faces in the forest, faces
that still blend well with the forest,
that still smile an inward smile
of satisfaction, a smile that contains
life in a nutshell. Her forehead shaved
to further tradition, not to fight it;
plaits, mud-plastered, reddish, just like
so many slanting rays of sunlight
through brown leaves. Around her neck
thick strings of beads, brown
like her body, shiny like her body,
with red beads like tropical birds
on a fond of greens and browns
and greys; accents of colour, a flash
of inspiration. In her eyes
a smile that holds the truths of the forest,
the truths of her body, the truths
of life. There’s life stirring inside.

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bydemure101© 1 comments/ 1677 views/ 0 favorites

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