When I go back to the Island
and my old friends said that they miss me
I miss me too,
the old me,
The one who had the futuristic ideas
the girl with
the nappy locks braids which is
so happy and natural like the
land
the same girl with the ashy feet,
the one who work the land with her bare hands
I was like a woman land army,
wild and carefree
the same girl who use her teeth to peel
out the hard skin and bite into the inner part of
the sugarcane and chew it.
who planted Roses, Morning Glories
with a smile
The one who loaded sharp blades sugarcanes
on to the high trucks
in the relentless hot sun
or frigid rain
with aches and pain
and drank water from the pitchers
until the sun go down;
Somehow, that girl survive those hard days
Even when she dance until dawn to the
sweet sound of the reggae beat
and the oldies Goldie's tunes
The one who woke up early to catch the 5:20 am bus
to travel miles to work in
Wildleys for minimum wages.
So when I go back to the islands
And my old friends say they miss me
Old friends brings all of the memories
back into the present state of mind
for a woman who is growing old