BANANA SONNET by Angela Petch
I watch you as you sit and peel the yellow skin
Up in the baobab tree, where you lay in wait.
You stole the banana from my picnic plate,
You and your hairy monkey friend, with a din
And a chattering, a hullaballoo of vervets
That echoed round the Serengeti – to Kuwait,
Constantinople, Timbuktu and the Bering Strait.
Oh banana mine, bought in the market of Tanga
From a mother and baby wrapped in a colourful kanga.
She carried a hand of bananas atop her head,
The baby slung on her back in peaceful slumber.
She chopped a bunch for me with a knife-sharp panga
And I placed you in my basket, a snack to store
For our safari. But alas, alack…you are no more.