Xol

by Mariema Tall

 

I smell of spoil

Xol hole

          My xol hole

What a dormant country

Lies in such immature

To be taught

          “fall off maturity”

To be taught

          Shed leaf
Then,

                    Of flower

                    Of fruit

Kissing concrete slabs

I save few


In my Xol hole,

Life whispers–

 



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