Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Tari Mtetwa

THE OLD SCHOOL

THE OLD SCHOOL

THE OLD SCHOOL

In the old country school
under the cool of the tree
I scribbled
on the dust’s pages

and the wind
my unfailing teacher
blew away my wrongs
and whispered corrections

and mother tilling the soil
to philosophy’s depth
unearthed syllabi
to school my eager eye

the enduring sun
shifting the shade’s course
moved me from class to class
to my graduation
Close

THE OLD SCHOOL

In the old country school
under the cool of the tree
I scribbled
on the dust’s pages

and the wind
my unfailing teacher
blew away my wrongs
and whispered corrections

and mother tilling the soil
to philosophy’s depth
unearthed syllabi
to school my eager eye

the enduring sun
shifting the shade’s course
moved me from class to class
to my graduation

THE OLD SCHOOL

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère