My nightrunner's dances
Have grown Weak
He would dance with gusto
Catapulting himself across
Launching his gig beside my door
Pebbles would provide percussive effect
As softly fast, intermittently then
Violently they would caress
My iron-roofed lockdown

He would sneeze
And whistle
Whisper aloud
Dash to the cowshed
And call "Nyundo"
My ploughing bullock
Making sure he Pats
His bare buttocks on
My mabati door
It would scream
And almost let him in

If I tiptoed to catch him
Under the belly of Nyundo
He would be,I was told
Not even a scent of him
Will I sense

And my night keeper
No longer dances with vigour
He is weak for he can't sneeze
The GSU have replaced
The artistry and athleticism
Of my midnight musician

For it seems
Corona has no immunity
Neither to sorcerers nor sopranos
Crickets and cicadas rule my homestead
While Nyundo misses
My nightman's hisses

My nightman's night runs
Have taken leave
For he fears the sneeze
Felt in the day
Would take him in isolation
For some time
How will he run