AVENUES

AVENUES

Avenues are on streets with long queues of trees that;
when the wind blows ,
bow their leafy heads to passer bys & strangers;
along with swirls that whistle to the rhythm of the breeze.

Attuned to them
& sometimes stealing the moment are frightening lightning streaks
that colour the streets with fear, allowing no hearts to be free and no day to be saved.

Black avenues with short, dry trees
speak nonsense when the sun rises to heat my cheeks;
they surprise the wind and rain
when their time comes to give back their purpose to the world.

Shade along black avenues
comes with pain and bad questions
about life and lifelessness
which they may, or neglect to provide
when nature’s elements
gather to boast their ideas about our universe-
Because all leaves have disappeared.

When trees on the avenues we love,
laugh & sway my heart in one direction-
their chosen way of photosynthetic living
& direct command from our wind;
all jealousies remain on the periphery
of my mind and nothing can stain my green living.

It is hard to kill avenues well-rooted
on soil that keeps them alive,

because trees live forever.

You are my avenue.

By Nomfusi Xinindlu