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
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010
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