A Puppet Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom

His eyes look far over the plains,
far over the veldt,
far over the mountaintops,
far past yesterday and yesterday’s things
and far past the borders of the farm.

His ears hear the songs of the birds,
hear the gushing wind
through the eucalyptus-bush of his heart,
his ears hear the sounds of yesterday
and he hears the song of his heart,
he hears his own sobs
while his tears pour down,

His hands search for the curves of her body,
his hands want to feel her
where she lies next to him at night,
his hands want to fold around her face
and pull her close
but his hands stay empty
just like his heart.

His mouth and lips yearn
for the nectar of her berry-red mouth,
his mouth form her name
on the voice of the wind
and his mouth draws in the pain
that her going away has left in him

but his whole existence stays waiting,
waits on her to return
(maybe on a day)
as without her his life is without real joy
and he has just become another puppet.