The Key to the Door 2
I was in a Brussels hotel and would be connecting to Heathrow in the morning. I had taken a hotel towel and plugged the gap under the hall door and rolled a pleasant doobie, switching on the tv to see what was on. And there they were, Nelson and Winnie hand in hand, walking down the road out of the prison.
I connected through to London, joined a South African friend named Tim in Tooting and considered my options.
Elder sister Jane was sailing at the time, and she had made noises that I might join the yacht in Gibraltar in the near future.
I didn’t have a return ticket to South Africa.
I could look for a job, being British by birth.
Why not return directly to South Africa now that this “Tata” was free and dedicate myself to Life in the New Apartheid Free South Africa?
TOO LONELY TO MAKE SENSE - AGELESS POETRY - DADA 