Two women sit under a thatched roof 
supported by rafters 
coarse wood brown
smiling and chatting together
Chickens scratch at the edge of their shelter
a bold shiny colourful rooster 
a big shiny black hen

Their surroundings are a circular patch 
dry dusty earth red
small mud brick dwellings 
define a perimeter orange
The late autumn day is lit by a cold sun of 
clean blue light

One woman sits above the other higher
she is perched 
Her long thin legs hang over a shallow edge
a rug covered platform
She is the older in a thick faded purple 
dress a pullover yellow
is topped with a scarf white around her neck
Her head is swaddled in a woollen wrap crimson
it frames a face sun
lit, weathered and aged by decades of labour

Spaces such as this
fields such as she can choose 
to see at anytime 
will forever be green and brown
She gazes pensively across 
open communal space
She ponders her past with pleasure and regret 
she speaks of things new 
old, deep and trivial
Her arthritic hands clasped in a lap
of gratitude flesh
Her battered Nike sneakers peek out from 
the long layers of fabric above grey and yellow
her face is calm
Her future as it will be

The younger sits cross legged 
a woven mat under her strung tan
Together cultivating lines of okra 
drying under sheltering eaves ragged
shadows of indigo host
hangings vertically in bright green
coloured lengths 
unclasped necklaces ornaments
of metres adorn the space with a decorative 
interior that creates a sense 
coming festivity
The drying shed colours the day, the place
it’s people making
according to the crop 
a pride of place for transient 
prettiness and implications 
security, work well done

Here for generations other 
younger women have
sat for hours 
days post harvest preparing 
sustaining products of manual fieldwork 
multi hued
for deep grey winter consumption 
Her dress is brighter golds
magentas her hands are as yet  
unaffected by the gnarly 
growths destined by labour
She repeats centuries old weaving 
patterns confidently efficiently unhurried
listening quietly thoughtfully respectfully

Tales of the past wash over her black and white
through her as water of life in delicate pastels
as hope as comfort
She knows here there are will be
still lessons to be gleaned
conversation the reflections of her elder
The younger a willing learner of 
a quasi meditative state borne soft pink
by the methodical repetitious 
nature of her work it is was as surely known 
the best way for learning lessons
by the word of her people
successes and failures 
myth legend 
retelling that never ceases to inform 
warm warn entertain and delight 

There is comfort in the learning 
a knowing that all the natural obstacles over 
which there is little control life 
will continue on on on
There is no question about how
time is to be spent 
day by day this is dictated 
by seasons culture necessity 
green yellow brown grey

There is no concept of  time ticking away 
each day is known-quantity where
choice is limited but colour rich
life is sometimes unpredictable dangerous 
set fluid simple
giving and taking with impunity
Time has no measure 
life itself opaque

Two women commune as did
two before them
back it goes into the dark 
blue of distance
where many women become every one
sitting together, stringing up green okra
another part of every year’s never ending
rainbow