Beneath my eyelids.
the landscape is heavy
the people are buried in ground-
clinging shapes of houses

From Langa to Nyanga
the fires are hidden
the landscape is flattened
frightened and silenced

Where are the fires
for me to believe in
where are the tongues of flame
to lick and conquer the dark

In answer the black body
of the sky rears up
loud with roaring
voices of the stars

The stars tonight
are blue backyard fires
studding the black
location of the sky