A poem I wrote For a class this semester about Bots

Midnight Walks

Last night, I was a pregnant Motswana,

waddling slowly, my full belly

leading me down the sand and dust path,

as I rubbed my stomach in a circular motion,

it felt soft, and yet so strong, all while the warm

sun poured over every inch of my body,

soaking through my clothes. Rays burnet

the top of my head, my shoulders,

the back of my calves.  Then with a smile,

and filled with content, I feel for the first time

I fit in here in this foreign land. I am African

because of you, my unborn love. You,

kicking inside me, a tiny forming person.

As my eyes slowly open - ten stretched fingers

firmly planted on my stomach -

my heart drops and I realize, you will only

be an image I will never fully conceive,

dreamt up at a time when I felt most free.

And your time within me ended before it began.