I NEVER LEFT...

 

I never left my wave-worn town

near a Caribbean din of seagulls, gannets

and ghost-ships in the horizon.

I never left the azurest blue I've ever seen,

even the black and most dehumanised hours

were embathed in that serene blue

of Novalis flower.

I never left. I still watch from a wooden pier

the sun up and down

like a sudden daffodil in bloom

yellowing clouds, the lighthouse, my reveries,

even the rotten smell of dead cats

floating in the slick.

I never left the scent of fallen mangos

dreaming of dewdrops

the tender glance of mongrels

sulking along the shores

or lapping up pools of rain.

I never left that full moon like dancing

over the sea, over the white oleanders

to the rhythm of African drums.

The first kiss as sour as tamarind juice.

The first love as brief as the moth flight

I never left my wave-hugged town

nestled in the doldrums of a Caribbean isle

where a sea goddess, a stella maris

(the bluest I've ever seen)

still blows me gentle a breezy smile.