7.07 / July 2012

On Our Rwandan Refugees: A Memory

listen to this poem

Zimbabwe, 1994

You have to remember:
sometimes a man does walk
out of the sunset, at first
staining the dark lily fabric,
then growing and becoming
a noise, a need, but it’s not
until you see one arm clearly
the red eyes, the paper skin,
not until you hear him ask
if you have any water please
please I have come so far

Jonathan May grew up in Zimbabwe. He teaches children in Memphis and is currently translating a Gunter Eich play into English. Other work has appeared in Rock & Sling and Photosynthesis.
7.07 / July 2012