Packaged and stored in the a corner of my mind is yesterday, “what was”.
My most treasured moments are my childhood, even though I’m grown and
flown millions of miles from home, I reminisce and long for those days. I
hang on to the hinges of the past. Yesterday will never again be the
way I painted it in the chap book of my mind.

Nose press against the window pane
Clouded by the mist of my breath
Watching rain drops trickle on the outside
Of my waking dream
Rewinding memories of old Jamaican days

Days! When the rain like crystals, trickle through parched plain
Brought mangoes and avocados to the ground.
Days when the boiling sun would warm my heart
And ripen the fruits thereof
Days when the prettiest mango would be too high
We’d throw bricks until it came down
Only to realize half was already eaten by the birds

Hopping barb wired fences to claim falling fruits
That was the neighbours, before the rain stop
Flour sacks for umbrella
Mango in-a-lap
Collecting rat sucked coffee beans
We’d measure in tins and sell to buy bulla cake

No gas or electric stove here, three brick and some sticks
But no one’s complaining
Bare foot I chased butterflies through the thorny fields
Catching bees in a match box
Collecting lady bugs in jam jars….but
That was yesterday
Even though my heart laments and grieves
I can’t go home again
Cause home will never be the same