Nowadays, there are more elephants in children’s books than in any other Africa as there are more ghosts posing knife-faced on paperback covers than in the still-windowed suburban house I grew up in as there are more poems in the seasons of your hips and wrists than in continent-wide anthologies and discounted magazines– And me, I know I can’t keep up. But I try. Continue reading “Keeping count” by Godefroy Dronsart