The Bronze Legacy
The sunburned shoulder of the hill
Is hunched against the brilliant sky
In perfect somnolence, until
Every sense is lulled thereby.
Until my spellbound heart cries out
That this is Africa for me,
This legacy of winter drought,
This bronze and blue infinity.
For me-who looked for jungle green,
This is the ultimate surprise,
Year after year, this copper sheen
Of dying grass, that never dies.
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