Cracked Demijohn
Every day
he is there,
a lone coconut
sinking into the ground
amid scattered shells
and stranded seaweed.
He doesn’t gaze
at sun soakers,
sailboats and surfers,
doesn’t hear seagulls
and shrieks of
frolicking children.
He pours sand
into a broken demijohn,
does not ponder
why it is never full.
©2004 Althea Romeo-Mark
Yard Boy
Tattered hat
in scraggy hands,
he sizes up the house
slips into the gate
and asks, “Ma there?”
Eyes lock onto ours,
he weeps a tale.
“No work. No house.
No food ma.”
He kneels, begs,
quotes verses from the Bible.
Rooted, we stare--
ma, cook, wash-boy, nurse.
He asks about the yard-boy.
Ma hands him a scythe.
Grasping ma’s knees,
he weeps “Ga bless, Ga Bless.”
© 1989 Althea Romeo-Mark
Revised 2009
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