Nightsong: City by Dennis Brutus

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Sleep well, my love, sleep well:

the harbour lights glaze over restless docks,

police cars cockroach through the tunnel streets

from the shanties creaking iron-sheets

violence like a bug-infested rag is tossed

and fear is immanent as sound in the wind-swung bell;

the long day’s anger pants from sand and rocks;

but for this breathing night at least,

my land, my love, sleep well.

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