We played in the burning tropical sun, and as its light kissed our thick black hair
We made our skipping ropes from the long leaf stems, and leapt about like frogs prancing round the yard
Our legs, light but firm gave us wings and we flew like the soaring eagles in the afternoon sky
I tapped you on the shoulder, and you followed me to the mud puddle and together we moulded tiny wet figurines from brown earthy clay
Then with patches of dirt plastered on our faces, we strolled to the stream and washed our feet in sullied water where little kindred spirits giggled, splashing all about.
I lost my plastic bag with the grasshoppers inside and the tiny bits of green you pulled from the ground.
So I cried and cried, till you found them kicking their legs and munching underneath the large boulder, where ants and millipedes made busy with forage.
With sweet relief I smiled and hugged you tight before we parted ways to find our ma’s and pa’s.
Two days after, I came outside to play once more but you were not there.
Then with my head hung low I marched home to help mama pack my things before leaving for Canada on the giant white plane.
When we get there, I stand by the window and watch the snow fall on Christmas day.
There will be no children running around the street today, searching for masquerades with long scary canes
With large eyes I stare at the misty winter fog and from it I pretend to mould an image of you in my mind.
A picture comes to me, vivid and yet clear-
I see a beautiful ebony face gazing at the sun, but I cannot remember the name.
I love you,
So I cry.