Fear Of Flight

When was the last time you felt
a visceral shudder through your chest,
much like the one you got
when you realised
the worst thing you’ve ever realised?

It starts on the left
and spreads to the nether regions like contagion
Then grips, then squeezes, then arrests
It steals the peace from your mind,
before it recoils lightly

-like a man jokingly pinching meat
from his wife’s simmering pot,
before she swats his hand away.
And they laugh like old friends.

That’s what it does,
that fear of flight,
the fear of death.
Descends on an unsuspecting January night,
then goes away just as quickly,
Driven off by the same old defense mechanism,
“I don’t have to think about this now.”

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Copyright © 2021 Tebogo Ndlovu


Early, early morning is preferable
When the first thing is that cutting air
second thing: soft-spoken creatures
greeting a new sunrise
third thing: perfect quiet.

By silence, what is meant is
The innocent side of nature
conspiring to stay in charge,
Disappearing darkness denting horizons,
The weather deciding…
Ecosystems taking tea breaks
from the moving and shaking of humanity,
No shrill phones, no shrill people;

-the guilty party of nature either
alighting from their broomsticks
or playing victim-fast-asleep.

Early morning is preferable.

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Copyright © 2021 Tebogo Ndlovu

The Good Samaritan’s Fate

I was up at twilight,
counting the legacies of fading stars,
trying to preach to burglars
jimmying locks unshut.
But it was no use.
The burglars escaped
both the sermon and hypnosis-by-fading-star.
While I counted until the last star I could see
came up
and blinded me.

All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2021 Tebogo Ndlovu