A Boatman Recalls and Repents
An old thatched boat
full of goods and secrets
sails down memory lane.
Rice boils on a stained
stove again. The same
kerosene lamp flickers
in the salty breeze. His
eyes row along the wet
feminine nudity. Often
he shatters a widow’s
solitude on the Kanoli
Bank. He used to steal
the tender coconuts...
The moist events, he
recalls and repents.
Trucks and trains carry
goods. The boatman
lies back on the shore
like a remnant of the
twentieth century,
looking up at the vague
shapes and floating time.
First published in The Literary Hatchet (Pear Tree Press, US)
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