silver thatch palm

one I wrote in the Cayman Islands

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Silver thatch palm

On the midnight harvest 
as the ghost settles within his cocoon

       Nothing scares the sage	
       two eyes white like two moons	

Not the duppy,		nor his tune,
not the solitary sea nor its loom – 

Years will come before he's free of that tomb 
I know because 		
                  I’ve been this bloom 		
                         the seed
the leaf
                                      the tree	          the breeze	
the demon whistling in the field  to me
singing what you seek 	will send you sinking
shrinking to the bottom of the sea

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