Looking down again, I see
the glow of the desert where we met.
You lie naked by the bush
that burned; you are
alone, having received
no message.
You put on your shoes again
and dance past bare walls into the trees, chasing
memories of lion and giraffe.
Flamingos discover the source
of the Nile: it is autumn, and you
are climbing into the snow.
The sky turns, and I plunge
through breadcrumb stars; you stand
beside elephants and rushing water,
wondering whether to risk
the crossing.
Your knees are bruised: I look down again,
then close my eyes. Suddenly
everything is clear.
Tim Lenton
Poet's comment: Here there is little direct correspondence between Annette's picture and the images in the poem. But the title of the picture and the atmosphere it created set me off on a dreamlike trail into aspects of Africa which I found striking.
See Tim Lenton's poem.
See African Dream by Tim Lenton.