Feet, crusted, calloused, branch thick,
cinnamon sprinkled in youth;
born to bauxite’s blood red stain,
shining silver, rich white earth.

Body, bolstering twelve stones, or so,
spread across a bent stalk spine;
crudely hung, with sagging limbs,
beneath furrows of grizzled plaits.

Feet, scorched to fresh and fading scars,
dredged in fine grains of gray dust
for seasons of fiery intimacy
with char ash and smoldering coals.

Body, bound by bush to man and child;
spread wide for green bamboo,
cold sweat of icy planters punch,
painful birth of tar brushed sons.

Feet, crushing clay of generations ruts.
tree of labours hard worn track,
soles worn weary in servile path;
granite stone her soul consolation.

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