David Kirby: Mandela

Is it possible for a poem to hate you?
my student asks. I think my poem hates me.
It doesn’t hate you, I say. Just wait. Sometimes
you have to, whether you want to or not.
When Nelson Mandela was released from prison,
no one had seen him in public since 1962,
so his followers were shocked to see
a stooped old man with white hair,
his eyes and lungs damaged by hard labor
in a limestone quarry. Mandela had been
an athlete—where was the boxer
with the broad shoulders? Now imagine it’s
a February day in 1990, and you’re standing
outside that prison gate, and here comes
Nelson Mandela, smiling and waving,
one hand raised in a fist, the other shielding
his eyes from the unfamiliar sun. Yet even
in prison, Mandela continued to lead
the anti-apartheid movement and bring about
reform in South Africa. Not long after
he was released, he received the Nobel
Peace Prize, and a year later, he became
his country’s president. Just look at him now,
in this moment. See how strong he is.

Poet, critic, and scholar David Kirby grew up on a farm in southern Louisiana.  Since 1969 he has taught at Florida State University, where he has received several teaching awards. He lives in Tallahassee, Florida, with his wife, poet Barbara Hamby. His many books include Help Me Information (LSU, 2021).

Poem copyright 2024 David Kirby. All rights reserved.