Seasons of a life

 

                                          Our creative writing group were given the challenge of writing a piece – a short imagestory or a poem – on the subject ‘The changing seasons’. Having never written
poetry l decided to give it a go. My poem is about 
Luwam, a lovely Ethiopian mother, and how she spoke of her life here, in a strange country, and of her longing for her own homeland.

 

 

 

Seasons of a life

It is spring
A season of life,
I am told, as they welcome me.
From this tower where I live
I look down.
The leaves of the trees are vivid green,
Some have blossom, pink and white
Flowers, a blue carpet among the trees
The sun is weak, grey clouds fly passed
Making shadows on the land
This is not my country, my home.

++++++++++
It is summer
A season of warmth
my neighbours tell me.
From this tower where I live
I look out.
On green tree tops covering the land
as far as I can see
as far as l could walk in a day
The sun is hot, white clouds rise,
ghostly shapes in the blue sky
This is not my country, my home.

+++++++++++
It is autumn
A season of the dying
my friends tell me
From this tower where I live
I look out
Across the brown cloaked leaves
Rain falls in sharp spears
Leaves in the pools of water
Corpses floating in a sea
Cloaked in a shroud of fog
This is not my country, my home.

++++++++++
It is winter
A season of cold
I tell myself.
From this tower where I live
I look out
Across a dark cobweb of trees
Floating in pale still mists
smothered in cold snow
This is not my country, my home
It is painful, too painful
But for my children I must endure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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