Be there
Shanty roads
Charlotteville fetes on Saturdays
Pink, blue, purple houses
Dressed in pelou and black cake
Bottle tree prayers
And the sting of bird pepper
In the Horse’s eye
The mourning has gone awry

Pan man somewhere practicing for next week
I hear this in between the bell rhythm
I am in my grave
A 6/8
A Mother’s church bell
The boy and his staff

Who battles inside the House?
The white of the eye sees this

What has happened
What will come to pass
Draw it out on the sea-grape leaves

Only, where are you now?
Some ask

To and fro
To and fro

Jumping banana boats toward a home
We are red orphans so tiny in the sea
We loved though imperfect

Swim
Float
A salty grain
Sweep out
Clean out
Mirror by your window
Mirage in your profile

The broken peacock feathers, stolen from the altar
Perfect desecration

Here is the holy door
You painted each season
An ache without end
Yet
Pray prey persevere somehow

I lost you in this paradise

Is your vision still good enough
enough to see the
far far away sails
a red one a white one
one not so far

blue or maybe green
the cobra eye unwavering

your son a mirror
unflinching

remember