Thursday, 1 October 2009

lonely trike ride going home

Jamaican lights send me home like you always did before. 
I always fear I might not see you again after the avenue ends. 
Send me to bed tonight, 
cover me with your warm blanket of yellow, green, red hues. 
Fill my eyes with lines of colors moving 
like running ghosts of the people I loved but lost. 
Kiss my forehead before I see darkness. 
Soon when sun came, 
you'll be not be there with me. 
but thank you 
in the midst of my darkest hour 
you were my sun, 
my colorful sun.

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