Like Mandela casting his vote, I smile
and peel Cape stickers from green apples;
reel back the years, vigil, marches,
taking my small son to sign.
He knows now why I said at street stalls,
in supermarkets, not those or those,
why it was never just an apple.
© Miriam Halahmy
As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison.
This is the mark of the man and this is what he gave to each and every person in the world.