An issue of blood.

It was under the hot southern sun
we hopped
and leaped like frogs,
racing towards
the cool shade of the camel thorn
and the red Kalahari sands
a fiery furnace
beneath our naked feet.

And when kardoef! I fell
as we jumped
over a kakiebossie (2) your thin
boy's hand grabbed mine and
held
pulled me to my feet
laughing among
the red Kalahari dunes.

'I love red' you said as the race continued
now hopping on one leg
'and you?'
'I love brown' I said
'the brown cows, the brown mud pools
after the summer rains,
the brown soil'

'Ah! Meisiekind, (3) blood is red, blood is very red'
you exclaimed as we entered
the final stages of the race
the shady haven just a stone's throw away.

Now you are gone, friend of my red dunes
buried under lofty brown sands
and beneath the age-old
camel thorn
I sit resting
battling
an issue of blood.

(1) thumping sound
(2) khaki-bush
(3) girl
Floria !kharas

Printed with permission from the forthcoming anthology "We must choose life. Writings by Namibian women," compiled and edited by Elizabeth IKhaxas, Windhoek, 2008