We have been driving down a dirt road for hours. We haven’t seen any human habitations. Just parched scrubland. No trees. The road seems to go on forever without bending to the left or right. It is hot and dry. Our car trails a cloud of dust. No signposts and the road does not feature on our map. Eventually we see a man standing in the brown grass. We slow down and stop. He is wearing a conical hat.
we ask where the road goes
the man points ahead—
it goes that way
was born in South Africa but has lived in the UK for most of his life. His published work includes several novels and poetry books for teenagers and children. After a visit to Japan, he became fascinated by short-form poetry and began writing haiku and haibun. His work in these forms has appeared in journals worldwide, both print and online.
