The poem we have for you here is titled - The Great Black HunterMention it.
What bush meat I’ve not eaten?
Tiger, hare, deer or python
or squirrel, alligator, snail; my dad
was a good hunter
not with gun but with
snares
Now that he’s late
I’ve began to hunt my meats
in bushes beneath the skirts.
May his warrior soul, rest in peace.
IMAGE credit :- Africanimagelibrary.com
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