East

I saw the shadow of the monument
Langa payed its price
engraved on its walls
the names.

After many years
I found the place
and bowed my head
and felt.

In the East
they took to the streets
and were gunned
under a Western sky.

Rubber turned into lead
a lieutenant hot collared
gave the signal...

That was then
last night, not far
a stomach was stabbed
and two brothers bled.

The East is still the East.
Tires still burn
hands still yearn
in scarred turns
a present of peace.

I console in the hope
in the veritable fact
in the dream
that we are safe
in 64 squares.