In Pretoria East Cemetery

where yellow vygies grow
around a Shona sculpture of Rapoko soapstone
beneath quartzite pebbles, warm ants 

and lazy lizards
lie the bones of my Pa

at the end of 1975
we ran around at the Zimbabwe ruins, seeing the man
in his leopard loinskin, throwing bones

crouched and sweating my dad sat in front of him

well, this is a witch doctor
a soothsayer, old Nokkie

in the tranquil rhythm of rural Africa 

at Rhodes' resting place on the open Matobo hills

Pa says to me: Here, cut into the bald heads

lies a deeply lonely man

.
with others in memory
through the sun of the years
and the brilliance of every night
from the Cape up to Cairo
my dad read their lives

and I bring him back to me
in death's eternal mourning
in the light and dew of early morning
in the sadness of remembering

on the gray granite of tombstones
blue-green raindrops are falling
and wet birds are gliding through the water
while he becomes stone

deep in the earth

In memory of Louis C Eksteen
20 October 1930

13 October 2001

© Annora Eksteen, 2025🌿