For equatorial girls who sought forests when cactus blooms became not enough

A return to familiar things

For equatorial girls who sought forests when cactus blooms became not enough

You’ve been here too long

Turning the chestnut soil in search of roots to eat

There are no yams or cassavas under that soil

Only the bones and keepsakes of the people who were there

Before you arrived wide eyed and young,

In your delirium, you’ve been watering rocks,

waiting for green to spring out

 and to crack them open

You are no god or poet

Only they can send torrents pouring in to blank slates

To  create paradise

Turn your cracked feet east and start walking

Dive in and swim when you get to the roiling grey of the Atlantic

Thank the spirits who help you afloat when your legs no longer kick

And your body begins to sink

When you get home

Gorge yourself on mangoes

Plantains,

Yams, the greenest kontomire you can find

And know that there is bounty just beneath your feet

Never again look west

Never be lured by the glitter and lights across the sea

Remember the hunger of the desert

The hunger that hollowed out your bones

Filled your eyes and mouth with sand

Remember, and fill your hair with bougainvillea,

Plumeria,

Know that heady sweet scent as home.

 

 

 

Author's Note

kontomire: green leaves of the coco yam plant