in her letter by Dikobe Ben Martins

in her letter
keitumetse says that
the umsundusi river
still runs its
serpent - smooth course
through the lush
evergreen edendale valley
on its way to the sea.

in her letter
keitumetse says that
fishes no longer break
the umsundusi's clear surface
at dawn
for the throat
of its song
is now choked with the grim harvest of conflict:
mutilated bodies
stick in its throat
like fish - bones.

in her letter
keitumetse says that
in the valley and
in the surrounding area
coffins bearing the remains
of comrades and inkatha vigilantes
have become as common
as kitchen tables.

in her letter
keitumetse says that
the valley's thick mist
now lies soft and still
like cotton wool
over the dark wound
of its bleeding heart.
that is often wrapped
in a shawl of fear
smoke and fire

in her letter
keitumetse says that
comrade rolihlahla
has made an impassioned plea
to all those whose hands
are stained red with blood
to throw their weapons
into the sea
but the monstrous
metallic roar of guns
and the heart - rending sound
of weeping continues

in her letter
keitumetse says that
the search for peace continues
and other than the foregoing
life still goes on however
in the land of rusted ploughshares
spring is in the air
the world grows greener
buds abuzz with bees and birdsong
are fluttering in the breeze
as she may soon be getting married
if she can overcome her notion
that marriage means being pinned down
like a museum butterfly.

http://www.sahistory.org.za/people/dikobe-ben-martins