Wanjiku Mwaurah
[In the future they will braid grass]
[In the future they will braid grass]
In the future they will braid grass
Seated on the same which they spin
In and out without much thought
They braid
A skill passed on to them
By the mothers before their’s
Teaching them how best to spin the yarn
Too long stories of their past their history
With their still young hands
They grasp
Grasp what their past held
Shake their small braided heads in marvel
And reckon they have quite the words
To quickly quell the raging storms
They draw on the scalp of the grass their sole dreams
Of how they will tell of their past in their future
They smile and laugh frivolously
Then sober up at the reality that some day
They will be the mothers of their mother’s
And some child with a play station
Will wonder about braiding grass
And will not question their past
And they will hit away the marked board
And the lighted box in front will have more marks
These kids will google their past
Their finger will not tease the soil
Into telling it’s tales
Their ground will be of hard stone
The smell of the union of rain water and soil
Will be seen behind the 3D googles
And the stories spun will be of weight loss bordering anorexia
Long discarded will be the child-bearing hips
The cup-less burst size and
The boys will woo girls
In their parents home
The tact long forgotten
In some future they will remember
Braiding grass, yarning tales
And the frivolous laughter they used to have
And wish the time would freeze so
They remain little persons forever