Borrowed Light

One hour of diesel
Three homes on one cord
Borrowed light
Use it well

We wrote the hour on the back of Rue's exam paper
Eight to nine, taped beside the switch
First ten minutes, charge the two old phones
Next ten, iron Tariro's Monday shirt
Kettle on while Auntie rinses rice
Freezer gets the medicine cold again
Then Tendai checks the fuel-cap line
Forty minutes left — now give the roof a song
String bulbs wake above three neighboring yards
Nobody arrives surprised by what we have
We counted the cost before we counted the dancers
And every minute already has a name

One paid hour, everybody knows
No pretending it can overflow
We knew the dark before the first song played
So spend the light the way we planned

Borrowed light, sixty minutes bright
Charge the phones, iron Monday, then we dance tonight
When the engine gives the darkness back on time
The mbira keeps what diesel cannot buy

Use it well
Use it well
Don't waste the glow
Don't waste it
Borrowed light, borrowed time
The joy was never on the meter

Eight-thirty-two, the school shirt hangs straight
Tea moves round in three chipped cups
Children finish sums beneath the string bulbs
Grandma checks the answers, marks one wrong
Eight-forty, shoes push chairs aside
Tendai taps a bucket, Rue starts hosho
The city below stays dark and quiet
Our three roofs learn the same small chorus
Eight-fifty-five, nobody asks for more fuel
The stop is written there beside the switch
Grandma says, A little light used properly
Can finish work and still leave room for joy

Five minutes left, everybody knows
No pretending it can overflow
We knew the dark before the first song played
So spend the light the way we planned

Borrowed light, sixty minutes bright
Charge the phones, iron Monday, then we dance tonight
When the engine gives the darkness back on time
The mbira keeps what diesel cannot buy

Nine o'clock
Tendai lowers the switch
The engine stops exactly where the exam paper says
Nobody gasps; nobody reaches for more
Rue's hosho enters before the echo settles
Grandma lifts the mbira from its cloth
The machine carried the hour
Now let the hands carry the song
The dark comes back
The rhythm does not

Borrowed light, the paid hour is gone
Monday's shirt is ready, tea is warm
No bulbs above us, still the roof can shine
The mbira keeps what diesel cannot buy
Borrowed light, borrowed time
The joy was never on the meter

Five-twenty, sky turning grey
Three extension cords coiled by the wall
The exam paper stays beside the switch
One hour used exactly as planned
Then the sun arrives without a bill
Borrowed light