He disappeared when autumn sang the last hymn.

Trees cogitate in silent  and poetry shall not express grief; we shared shade while dismantle our problems
        And
Marvelled at our metamorphosis, you poured  chivasregal in a calabash
Our thoughts sailed  upon endless seas; punctuated by laughter  which revive our being.

      Oh!
may the tale be narrated to your seed

That  no oxymoron
  Nor euphemism and  syntex can  describe  the scald tears of a poet

Makhosonke Dhlamini