Wrestling Champion, by Tom Mukasa

 Wrestling champion

I happened to be there,

when,
 the wrestling champion visited,

she was feted,
 on food,
sweet brew,
wine,

like a visitor,
 was treated,
 in our village,

people rubbed their hands,
 on the wrestler,

a talisman,

mothers,
 gathered their children,

for in our village,
 that is the custom,

leaving everything aside,

a must-attend,

like a funeral or wedding,

and who,
cannot,

bid the elder's bide,

the contender,
 remained standing,

the rest of us,

all at the village square,

down on the ground,

all of us sitting,
 and waiting,

anxiously,

but the contender,

remained standing,

rigid,
defiant,
a position

adopted,
many months back,

at the same spot,

for this is how,
 the wrestler,
 met the contender,

who having been challenged,
 had to come,

to a match,
 which drew crowds,

a climax,

as time,
would have it,
night,
into,
day,
day,
into,
night,

the wrestler came,

the contender,
 stood like a column,

rigid,
 defiant,

and on the day of the match,

the wrestler,
 un-daunted,

approached the contender,

who,
 standing like a column,

rigid,
 defiant,

tensed up,

what happened,
 is told in many ways,
this is,
just my way,

the contender blinked,

the wrestler was so fast,

the contender blinked again,

yawning followed,

then the limbs,
on which,
stood the contender,
 shook,

as if the eye-lids had weights,

as if there was fluid in the bones,

as if the only thing to do was to squat,

soon the contender,
 was down in a heap,

curling and snoring,

it was a site to behold,
oh! You should have been there,

in broad day light we all saw it,

for sleep had taken the contender,

in its powerful hold.