Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.190.239.193

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

First sighting

It was an early summer morning when my best friend Edwin 
threw pebbles on my window to wake me up
I like morning slumber, waking up at six, looking at the alarm
the clock on the bedstand and think of two hours more sleep.
Ewin said there was a big ship at the dock fully laden with
copra; five minutes later, I joined him as we ran to 
the harbour to collect the broken nuts.
When unloading, bits of copra fell down; we had pockets
full of it, and the white flesh was still soft and chewable.
Look, said Edwin, and there, on the gangway, stood 
the first black person we had ever seen; he had a bag 
in his hands that turned out to have booze and cigarettes.
We took him home to our street to show him to my mother 
She was working, but my aunt, living on the first floor
took him in; we were milling about till she threw us out.
Two days are gone, a tall -in our eyes- old man, the captain
who came looking for his cook.
He is from Sudan, the captain said, which, meant  
little or us and he is black, oh, him, he is in my aunt's flat.
Half an hour later, the captain and his cook walked 
to the ship, we followed at a respectful distance to think 
a captain!
On the gangway, the Sudanese waved to us he looked
Happy smiling, broadly; it was a day everybody was happy
the crew waited to be fed, my aunt sat in a chair in
her flat smoking ready-made cigarettes.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required