That, small gate through the Estate

Yesterday, rain,rain, rain

First small drizzles,

As I fast,

Then droplets on the rise,

Before sun set,

As I reached the Sun Set,

Apartments,devoid of nature, trees…

One after the other,

I wonder

The architect ,the designer!

There is this small gate,

That makes you come close,

As you drive or walk,

In this great Naalya valley..

You meet the foes

Or friends,

Others with hoes,

Like Mukwasi,

On his toes…

Tiptoeing..

Then the lady walking

with majest

As though she has the Majje!

Albeit her name is not Annita,

She sojourns as though among,

Those with Anita Among

The man is his 50s’, dwindling potie,

That, I pity,

As he swings like a hunter on a mission..

Perhaps, a Catholic mission,

Some, ladies like it missionary,

Others, mbu visionary

The ageing mama strides,

As the elderly papa counts,

His steps, one at a time..

A sturdier creature that time!

All bones

rattling..,

So I returned,

Wet with droplets of rain,

On my head,

As I headed home