They are silly others small when they smile joy showers all they are busy some are shy Ugandan children reach to the sky
From the Iron Donkey I watch a normal afternoon in Gulu two boys four eyes traffic people, animals, motorcycles *iron donkeys, cars and trucks The Iron Donkey is a guest house where we stay in Gulu. The iron donkey is also what Westerners consider a bicycle.
give me a crayon a paper of my own leave me to create a space all alone a quiet, a calm a world you can’t touch when I’m done I’m so proud happiness doesn’t take much huts and livestock trees in the breeze clap their hands children coloring It is no surprise that Ugandan […]
you can’t see me made of crayons and paper hear my roar 100 Pawell children made masks. When they roared, the village could hear these happy little lions.
Mist hangs on the edge spring dons a winter coat sea laps for sun The WordPress photo challenge prompt today is Awakening There is something wonderful about an early morning walk on a misty, deserted beach before the awakening of the crowds later in the day or season.
one class under a mango tree one hundred children, sheep and dogs puppets and white board magic children eager to learn will I ever speak your language? the child takes my hand “we already do” Sometimes we teach under trees other times in a building or porch. Children are always attentive and willing […]
you ask me what I do so many hats sit in a corner I point… some are dusty others can no longer be worn I’m tired… paper leaves scatter rose petals crumble with age misunderstood… children I have loved stories I have told one heart… no value a head shakes pennies fall from my […]
in the same lane motorcycles, trucks, and cars we walk, some make it Pedestrians is the WordPress photo prompt for the week. I have learned to share a lane with multiple vehicles and other people in Northern Uganda.
greetings far and wide hearts momentary grasp a smile of shared kindness if only this could last shallow are grey blue waters when for another do not share freedom used to ring for gold we only care daily the reminders a smile so white and pure a child trusts my hand love […]
rough log house surviving century’s seasons feather beds * beneath cool shade verdant battlefield covers scars blood stains * whistling through reeds sun warms each blade of grass soldiers memories …And they fell. No matter the mother’s sorrow or the lover’s tears they could not be revived. Such is the fate of the fallen warrior. […]