After 40 years of living in England, my parents retired back to Jamaica, Montego Bay. My father’s routine was to have an early morning walk to experience the sun coming up. On our visit, we joined him and were overwhelmed by the Paradisal beauty and reminders of a brutal past.
Come let we walk
Watch the morning rise
Pulsating Cicadas
drowsy fire- flies
Shrub alive,
last bit a shut eye
Come let we walk
Past Miss Eliot house
Veiled in luminescent grey
Vacant, veranda chair waiting
For occupancy
Come let we walk
Listen to the thud,
thud of mango trees
As fruit roll free
‘Keep away from the gate!’
Too late…
Snarling, growling dogs
Pitch against the gate
Pull against their chains
Setting off a chain reaction
Come let we walk
Middle a the street
Heart a beat
‘gainst rib- cage
Howls real close and distant
Cacophonous
Velvet darkness a drift
Rounded stone building
Looms into view
‘Oh that… the old sugar mill.’
From morn to night,
Witness to
unspeakable suffering
Vestige of another time
Come let we walk
Bells approach,
See man trek with tethered goats
Greet all with toothless smile
Light oozes sprinkling its warmth
Dazzling
Startling light
Come let we walk
See
Amber, lemon, russet
Hibiscus, Lantana, Cordyline and Yucca
Skirting the Mahoe tree
Abuzz with birds and insects
Our eyes feast on
Bejewelled blue fronds
Come let we wait
Iridescent
Shimmering green
Humming -birds
Hover
Flash
Feed
And are gone
Myrna Moore
A lovely evocation of island life. I could virtually smell the mangos and hear the insects and birds, but I could also take in the suffering of the past –the “Vestige of another time.” A superb piece of writing, Myrna.
Thank you Bill. I enjoyed writing it and I’m pleased it appeals to the senses.