I walked to the end of the road and back.
It took me all my life.
Halfway down I looked around,
beside me was my wife.
Are you Kim ? Let's get this done,
let's waste no time resisting.
The girls are here, let's be clear,
the first one is insisting.
We did the deed, released the seed,
the rest they say is history.
I kept walking, she kept talking,
enshrouding us in mystery.
Further down I looked around,
and she's no longer with me.
Has a child and a mile wide smile.
Kim is part of history.
A little later, forty moons,
again the whole thing's cosy ;
fires at night, all is right,
We have a kid called Rosy.
Rosy leaves this Friday, for parts unknown. She's nineteen, and though I know it will all be ok - I'm feeling like a day in Manzini, a few years back, watching A. ( our first ) get on a ridiculous bus full of pigs and an overloaded trailer, headed for the minefields of Mozambique.
I'm a little bit frightened, I don't mind saying.
A. made it back, and is so much more beautiful, and wise, I think, for what happened, after that day in the KFC lot in Swaziland. Damaged too, I know. And I let her go.
Rosy : hey rose, hey g.g. - this post is for you. And your sister, and your mom, who is art in heaven. Loving you all so much.
I turned at the bottom of Manning Road,
and began the steep climb back.
Every muscle screamed
screw the rhyme, watch your mind, the girls you had you dreamed.
Was the dream you wake from smiling.