The Johannesburg People

With all their pretty liar features
Wiping out all melting pot traces
Of threads of fruity nucleic acid.
Their father was a police officer
In Sophiatown. In those days
They wore knee-length dresses
With white stockings to church
On early epic Sunday mornings.
Ate beetroot with their Malay
Cuisine curry. Caroline, Gerda and
My second mother Magdalene.
Ironed their hair. Once upon a time
They lived on a farm in Ladysmith.
Experienced farm life firsthand.
I imagine that kind of life must have
Been hard. Harder to leave behind.