The hard rugged floor that covers my city yawns,
Yawns with a familiar thirst
As a thousand pair off legs pound upon it
Again and again!
The once compact floor, grinds into dust
Forming a thick brown carpet.
The city dwellers starter from side to side
As they swing at the mercy of the dust,
To save their kiwid shoes
From the tiny little hills of dust,
As they snake their way towards the waiting dusty matatus.
That ferry them to their clean and dry offices.
Across the street, warm wind and dust
Sweeping against the hard tough faces.
Of thirsty county askaris lying in wait,
Unabashedly, for the street hawkers
To quench their thirst, with some chai.
Above the skyscrapers, the sun smiles widely
Claiming the dew off Kidero’s once green grass.
Unwary of the dwellers below
Who carry their clattering dry bones
Within their sweaty bodies
With a nostalgic longing,
Longing for the rain.
As March dawns upon the city,
The weatherman clears his dry quirky voice
“I smell rain oh I smell rain, ye busy citizens, be warned!
Rains are bad oh rains are bad, tread carefully”.
The sun recedes, as it welcomes the gathering clouds.
The roofs break into song,
In harmony with the birds.
Drip drop and drip they go,
As they announce the arrival,
Arrival of the long awaited rains
The rains are finally here.
By Joash masese