DAY-DREAM by George Kiwanuka
The ghosts of my lost dead children call out to me…every now and then
These
ghost children desire to play
Their lively playful chuckles frozen in time…
Oblivious of today’s concerns
Trapped in the past joys of their days,
They know
and care not that in these cloudy murky days,
Endless toil is the natural
accompaniment to breath
And that a minute lost in the sunny embrace of nostalgia
is a whole handful of life-giving peanuts lost!
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