Inside the gate the smell of strong tea in the air
With burnt toast and real butter
Outside the gate, strong cinnamon and nutmeg.
But I preferred the neighbors who
Cooked rice, plantain and pepper sauce
And the other that made me nauseous at times,
Fried curry rice and herbs.
But I could stand the garlic
And onions from the other side
As I wondered how many bags of onion could smell that strong.
The dawn came each morning and the sun was never late
With the dew drops on the grass
And those insects who have ventured into the light
Now lying helpless on the ground,
Struggling to recapture their lost flight
Before the crows and other birds
Make a feast of them.

Dedicated to the memory of my mother ..1914--2002