A language sea in red land: Limpopo 

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Photo: Canva.com

A language sea in red land: Limpopo 
For Mr V

After a long but good day, now looking 
for dinner at a Steers in Tzaneen, 
listening to you speak to a cashier 
in Tshivenda, I wanted to learn, 
trying to type into a note 
in my phone at the pace that you spoke.

The words were in your eyes, I could see them 
rise and crest in your eyes and roll and stretch 
and break in hers, leaving her awash. 
Throughout our trip, with all our encounters 
you could dive deeper, as we met Limpopo: 
parts as dry as seabed, others lush red.

We journeyed towards a green horizon, 
past so many people, our return unknown 
and I followed your wet trail of words, with 
every cashier, waitress, nightguard; 
words that took me to an uncertain shore, 
where I set myself adrift in their new-born sea.

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