Totsiens Sam

Totsiens Sam by Angela Prew

The corner of the carport 
at number four
is empty now

The big tree in the park
still casts a shadow
but no one sleeps 
in its shade.

The bags left
on our stoep for safety
are no longer there,
their contents clothe other men.
  
The bell is silent
in the evening,
no call for food
disturbs our peace.
  
On carnival night,
Sam’s jol night,
he listened to the fun
from his clean, white bed,
knitted into tubes
that fed and breathed for him
that he no longer needs.

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