Blue Range
On Diego Martin lowlands time passes
slowly with such dear fancy not yet dimmed,
licking the sticky raw cane molasses,
the pulp and juice of the plump tamarind.
Eating pomerac and julie mango,
toolum and sugar cake fast disappear -
guava and sugar apple sweet for so,
sapodilla, sour sop, and pommecythere.
And in the fields to the kiskadees’ trill
digging for topitambo in long grass -
our small dirty hands our basket to fill
with Asis wide toothless grin and cutlass.
These are the fruits of a time unmistook
when the old budding trees of youth are shook.
Written: May 1996
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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