From Barbados

the mother palm had plaited her daughter’s
hair for us
to sit under
while her bad little boy
cloud wet
in public grape trees
stretched the moon
across the sand shadows

each nation sharing its natural
gift
to enhance a cultural
exchange



my use of english
has not always been
spoken
as you now know
and your english
cast in the middle of salt and sand
isn’t just the “little” the guide
book tells us of

there is something more Bajan*
to your language
and more african to my response

in muted conversation
we met
and i take with me
your english
gift

 *another word for Barbadian 

 = Joan Grant