A NEGRO LABOURER IN LIVERPOOL
                                                                                   
                                                                                              -DAVID RUBADIRI

I passed him
slouching in dark backhouse pavement
head bowed
taut
haggard
and worn
a dark shadow
amidst dark shadows

I stared
our eyes met
but on his dark negro face
no sunny smile
no hope
or a longing for hope promised only
the quick cowed dart of eyes
piercing through impassive crowds
searching longingly
for a face
that might flicker understanding

this is him
the negro labourer in Liverpool
that from his motherland
with new hope
sought for an identity
grappled
to clutch the fire of manhood
in the land of the free.