Another day out in the cold,
though every day seems cold nowadays
An iciness that comes from within
Making itself known with every breath
Freezing the air right in my tongue
And peristalsis forcing its slimy coolness down
Ciku is hungry,
Then again, Ciku is always hungry
It might be because she hardly gets anything to eat
I wonder if she feels the cold?
She must, I see her shiver
My poor baby…
And Ezekiel…my Ezekiel
All grown up at nine years old
Traipsing about like he owns the world
Crossing the highway like he has a death wish
Probably does too,
It’s this cold…. it pervades everything…
It’s embedded itself in my chest now
I’ve got the doctor’s note to prove it
“(Ahem), The cold is now in your chest and if you do not take these pills then it will kill you”
But he lies on two counts,
First the cold is not only in my chest, but my fingers and my toes too, sometimes; I even feel it in my hair.
Second no pills can take the cold away,
It will kill me yes, but nothing can stop it, it will be a slow,
but unavoidable death
Njeri stop crying.
I know that is what three year olds do but you are only three by time.
Almost five by experience.
I know daddy isn’t here for you to lie on his chest and rid yourself of the cold.
I know you itch and hurt all over. For you it is not the cold but heat that disturbs. Doctor said, “She has a fever, too weak to fight disease. She must get something to eat”
Easy for him to say, he does not sit out here day after day…watching people, warm bloods I call them,
The warm bloods pass by. Going about their warm-blooded business.
No, he is one of them
I am not.