AN AFRICAN IN EXILE

This is a poem by my friend, Bart Wolffe. I met him in Zimbabwe many years ago and his poems bring back the memories of my homeland more than other words I have read.

I bought his book, Waking Dreams, from Lulu: here
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/waking-dreams/16109047?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/7

I LEFT WITH THE SHIRT ON MY BACK.
It had lizards crawling across it.
A lilac and blue flannel
Long-sleeve African design.
That was eight years ago.
I still wear it like a skin.
It may not be in fashion,
Now worn a little thin
But I wear Africa a bit
When I put my T-shirt on.
Animals know their own kind,
Birds recognise their kin.
This is my icon, my talisman,
My identity without, within...