by Alf Hutchison
So many people are displaced in our world today. Reasons vary, but the resulting hurt is universal.
My Doctor he once told me, “Alf you have rare blood;”
Traces of Kariba blue, and a touch of Gokwe mud.
There are traces of the Valley and it’s Tsetse Fly,
Malaria bugs swim freely , I cannot tell a lie.
Traces of fish eagles, and the Red Bishop weaver;
Together with Bilharzia ,and black water fever.
A build up of sadza and traces of burnt Braais;
Of course Mopane worms and those little pesky flies .
Looking me in the eye, tearfully he began to say
“You have the rarest of diseases… it will never go away;
You have Rhodesian blood trapped in your veins,
Which just keeps your heart, and your soul, in chains”