Quadroon

Quadroon An African journey through Hawaii, Haiti, a detour north settling in between the extreme, where summers are hot and winters are bearable. In a country old that has an Arabic tone in the tonal voice. Her epidermis is almond milk drunk before a spring’s dawn with the mystic of the exotic. Even slow her movement, a rush was not her concern but her eyes, dark brown tiger eyes, told of passion set free Healthy, her black hair shone brightly in nights of love. She is old now, her hair still black, her eyes not dimmed by age handles her walking rattans with customary stylishness Time has been kind to her as she lives on and on.