Standing On The Winnowing Floor Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I stand on the winnowing flow with
A bowl of grain held high for I know
Which way the wind is blowing at this
Time.Dome grain will fall right here
And some will stray, but I will find
It if it falls under the husks.

To winnow these words into poetry is
To find the few that can make a meal
We can eat and not fall sick. The rest is good for the wevels for I
Will throw all in the compost heap
And come rain it will rot and go back
Home for they say we all came from
The ground where as husks unwanted
We will return.

Dream your dreams for the winnowing
Fork is coming. It is ready to do
Its work that you do know
As well as I. I wish I were not like
You but like one of its prongs for
I could have the power to point you out and have you dangling on the fork
And look at you and say it's a pity
You ended the way of a husk. Unfortunately I stand on this winnowing
floor as vulnerable and as ignorant is
Things that await me and you. Therefore I wish to beg my lot to join
Me and watch the direction of the
Wind for that is all we can do.