Voting in Hout Bay

by Lise Day

The mist shrouds Hangberg
blankets Imizamo Yethu
I hug myself in the morning chill
keep places as new friends
nip off to the coffee cart
indignantly refuse the offer
to jump ahead
(didn’t think I looked my age)
eager for the opportunity
to remember the sacrifices
the long road
that allows me to stand
in this comfortable queue
shuffling forward to make my cross
as the sun breaks through
warm on our shoulders.

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