The Study

When I walked with small,
almost baby small steps into his study
after coming slowly down the long passage
I saw him writing in the half-light,
marking exam papers or reading some poetry,

getting the words, the rhythms into balance,
and I walked in deeper to be with him,
where I heard the hoofs beating of the horse
carrying its headless Boer citizen,
and my emotions were sometimes on the edge,
when his mighty voice

folded and pulled along the Afrikaans words
but without any kind of worry or fear
for even the cannibal I heard him reading verses
that still does awake feelings in me.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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