Zimbabwe by Donal Mahoney

 

From shimmering oil

of ebony still

will come flailing of limbs

will come hacking

quick slashing

of hands now untied

tattooing no pattern

not even a maze

depriving gray walls

of their stone

will come spittle

wild churning rivers

agush from slack jaws

of blanching gray hounds

till one day at dawn 

will come quiet