@! Free Range@ Poem by Nkululeko Mdudu

I like to look at the sheep nextdoor
And scrutinize every last one,
Yet still
All I can conclude is that they look the same.

Sure you get the black stained little lambs
but sooner they grow into brown than stay black
A few others, maybe one remains
black, but he behaves no differently to
the rest

And Tat' uMavi doesn't seem to mind.
Bra Manana, their herder calls the ram
'Schoolboy'!
Him, I know; Schoolboy.
Grandfather; well, he had sheep no less than a hundred
once,
But he sold them all to send his kids to school;
they too, were schoolboys.

There was no difference between Schoolboy
and the other ram,
'what's his name'?
only that he was a bud head
and the other had horns.

Grandfather loved all his flocks and herds;
The cattle most of all.
Since I had never seen his sheep
and he would call out loud in the kraal:
'Pesi pesi; where, are gone'
the merino used to bite his pants.
A whole flock-full of names
I hear;
Jonono, Jingi, Pringa, Fulale
and Jo'burg,
the dog.

'Pesi-pesi mhe...'
The children sing

'Pesi-pesi mhe..'

Free Range, Free Range,
Free ofspring!
Free Range, Free Range,
Freer in spring!

The only thing that's still free
is my flock of ideas in paper kraals
and Jay-jay,
the pen.