The Ballroom
This is a powerful poem. Thank you for writing it Christopher, and to this site for posting. I was in…
The 1994 recipient of the Moritz Thomsen Peace Corps Experience Award presented by PEACE CORPS WRITERS for the best short description of life in the Peace Corps.
•
The Ballroom
by Christopher Conlon (Botswana 1988-90)
Southern Africa, Kalahari Desert
She is the perfect image of a rag doll
I saw when I was a child, in a trash can,
dirty, ripped abandoned:
here in the Kalahari is that same
doll, maybe five, eyes huge, legs
white with desert dust.
Ke Kopa madi, sir, ke kopa madi.
Money: I shake my head no, no madi:
try to move on. But she stares at me,
suddenly transfixed.
No longer begging. Her eyes
wider than before.
My sunglasses:
I crouch down,
she approaches me, nose to nose,
tattered, filthy, she stares at me,
at herself.
Then her hand moves to her chin
and she says Oh, in a tiny,
surprised voice. She rubs away
the dried spittle there.
Then she turns and,
whitened heels kicking up dust
like marble, dances away,
dignified, satisfied,
a tiny queen
in an endless ballroom.
This is a powerful poem. Thank you for writing it Christopher, and to this site for posting.
I was in Botswana twice in the 1970s…and recently returned in 2008. So much change!
Janet Riehl