ShalomKwaitoLegends

**FOR THOSE OF US WHO MAKE MUSIC **we walked in the early morning when the dogs were tired of barking our footsteps, lost in the ways of ticking minutes took us everywhere where we never intended to be like, remember how the minute looked under its sole and there our blood was our flesh, stuck under sole turning to soil blood and flesh turned to mud the hour, like all the applauses we know and have heard declared us ants destined for the mad hoofs so the weary midnight hour held our hands and the empty streets stared at us with their lights and again, once more, we kept turning on our beds as if the mattress was hot earth roasting worms ah music-maker, one day when your feather breaks and the prowess of your speech vanishes like a snowflake falling on the earth remember you ride the hour like death rides life © 1975, [Mongane Wally Serote](https://www.poetryinternational.com/en/poets-poems/poems/poem/103-15597_FOR-THOSE-OF-US-WHO-MAKE-MUSIC) From: Behold Mama, Flowers Publisher: AD Donker, Johannesburg new york, 1975