by October 17, 2022 1 comment

The azure waters
Lured me to the shores
The vivacious waves
Washed me to lands unknown
And the men on the shore,
Filled my plate every evening.

Like a magician playing
With the pigeons hidden
Under his elbows,
The rolling seas cooing
hand me the corals and atolls
Shells and dreams of mermaids too.

What do i gift to you, in return
Oh, folks on the shore?
I snatched your fishing nets,
I stole your golden shores
I erase the sand on my heels
On the wall of boulders

The blue walls of your tiny houses
Crumble, and i crowd you
In dark rooms, of no relief.
I huddle you away
From the waves and my heart.
In your sleep, your heart sings
The songs of the seas.

The fury of the storms and
the saint on the shore lament,
“You are the man who gives stones,
to your children
when they ask for a loaf”
Nature still laughs the last laugh,
For sure, it is as hard as the shore-lashing waves.

editors note:

They take your all and call it a favor. The curse of colonialism. – mh clay

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