The Scroll (In Memory of M. N. Manley)

I remember the morning when the flags flew High over us, how we tumult in sweet chorus "The people's flag is deepest red," and grew Warm around you, like emancipation August When we track Sam Sharp down the wet mountain To pay with blood for what we could not keep. I grew up a cargoed car in your tight train I made bonds with my land, strong and deep And loved him who for the Gleaner his satire Wrote, and him who peeled our pulse polling Views, sown deep, about time's history scarred I remember the reggae king's sweet prophesying. We confirmed with you our need to stand, we Nor had done so well since Nanny led lines Of my blood sires through bush for history I remember some sat where the moon shines Still on green guinea grass, and tongues Warm as logwood fire lighting dark tales From the past, and our imagination's lungs Expanding 'til dreams were bulging sails