A black-thorn rose in meh Church Street yarden.
Smiles bloom there once, then ruff winds hardened.
Wish time would roll back so
I’d mek my old yard know
It’s the one place in the whole, wide world I go
when my days darken.
I got meh Church Street yard, now
fold-up in my heart, though
-ripped, torn and broken.
For my cousin- a man named Ivor.
In ‘membrance of our final reasoning ‘pon de phone,
gyaffin’ clear ‘cross de Pond:
“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the
darkness conscious.”~ Carl Jung
Rest now, my blood.
One Love,
K. Omodele
Abeng Caribbean Poetry #caribbeanpoetry