My Wife

My Wife

My Wife

You rise before
the sun
to till our field
our baby strapped
on your bent back
breaking only to feed
the child.
Breakfast is cold sadza
left over from the
previous night\'s meal.
Before sunset
you fetch firewood, fuel
for cooking supper.
You fetch water
for washing utensils,
for cooking, for bathing.
Often
you skip your bath
to spent
to bend before a dish.
To relieve yourself
you bare your buttocks
in the veld
without shame
like an animal.
Dozing with a morsel .
of sadza in the palm.
Talking to our Takudzwa
a toothless baby,
sleeping on a pot-holed floor.
in a pole and dagga
under thatch hut
make a day in your life.

Amai Taku shame
overwhelms me
to realise that
when you drop
to sleep and dream
making love to me.
I stagger to bed
in the arms of a town whore
drunk from clear beer.