I had gotten it
secondhand

And it was my favorite —
well-worn, even darned a little.

But one day I gave it to
Komanya,

A young man

Who needed a white shirt
for his Baptism.

It was the kind of blouse
that would look alright on a man —

Cotton knit with V-neck
and short sleeves,

    a small zip at the
back.

He wore it the day he was
baptized.

A year later now,

I attended infant
Baptisms this morning;

I watched as fathers and
mothers filed into the church

    with their children.

Suddenly, I saw my old
blouse again

Strutting down the aisle

On a toddler — Komanya’s
little brother.

Worn with zip in front,
it trailed the floor

Looking like a small
kanzu.

My eyes moistened as I
watched the waters of Baptism

Wash over my blouse once
again.

Komanya wasn’t there.

I wonder if he had
no other shirt to wear.