The Color of Friendship
At the corner of King and Far West Street
A newly arrived German family
They'd given birth to one
We were twelve or thereabout
I saw her in twilight of Hit Parade on radio Belize
I'd just walked barefoot from my yard
Never made it to Jim, the grocer next door.
I was face to face with newness of life
Eyes like a pussy cat, she pulled me
Half devoured me with her embrace
She squeezed as if to savor joy
I was pissed she dared to seize me
Caught me off guard
I smelled the smell of evening rose, but
Could not chase the fog that vied for her warmth
I knew not the color of friendship
Dark chocolate, white hands
Blues by the Caribbean Sea.
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