Forestland

I came here to muse.
A lady in a pink regalia
and ash hat _
colours that wouldn’t hide her
from the eyes of a roaring lion
or herders leads us to where
was Sambisa, with forensic lense.
After so many photographs
we agreed to archive,
she asked if I remember here,
if I remember we once upon a time
lost humanity, if I remember
this bridge wasn’t walkable.
She asked if I remember that a country
almost sink in the belly of this bush.

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