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The River by Phillippa Yaa de Villiers | Poems Rethabile Likes

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The River by Phillippa Yaa de Villiers | Poems Rethabile Likes The River by Phillippa Yaa de Villiers One day the Hillbrow Tower started to cry. Real tears poured down its sides collected in the gutters, and ran down Banket Street, and when the other buildings saw the tower's sadness they started to weep in sympathy. Soon the whole city was sobbing, the tears joined other tears and filled the depressions and valleys. They covered the koppies, and collected in City Deep, cascading over Gold Reef City flooding Fordsburg and soaking Soweto. They flowed until they became a river t...

Decorating a Cake While Listening to Tennis by Peg Duthie | Poems Rethabile Likes

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Decorating a Cake While Listening to Tennis by Peg Duthie | Poems Rethabile Likes Decorating a Cake While Listening to Tennis by Peg Duthie The commentator's rabbiting on and on about how it's so easy for Roger, resentment thick as butter still in a box. Yet word from those who've done their homework is how the man loves to train—how much he relishes putting in the hours just as magicians shuffle card after card, countless to mere humans but carefully all accounted for. At hearing "luck" again, I stop until my hands relax their clutch on the cone from which a dozen more peonies are to materialize. ...

Raising things by Rethabile Masilo | Poems Rethabile Likes

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Raising things by Rethabile Masilo | Poems Rethabile Likes Raising things by Rethabile Masilo As evening settles its dark wing on us we lie inside another night till even that night has nothing to say to us, till the crickets are quiet outside and bats are out, piercing night with their radar. There is no sound other than that of hooves as the devil goes by, on an evening stroll with his family. This happens night after night in these suburbs where evil likes to walk. I live in Qoaling. It is my home. One night the devil and his family didn't clop by as usual, they smashed our door down and trotted in, pierced Motlatsi's l...