Ephemeral History

Clearly I have been very distracted working on my next TMA on oral, printed and post colonial texts - ie the Bushmen, Robinson Crusoe and Derek Walcott. I have got another obsession for  Walcott's poetry. What a find! Here is a token poem to keep the spark alive but I look forward to the summer when I have a break from studying and can think creatively.

Ephemeral history

On the other side of the world

shaded by a canopy of thick green palms

another man sits,

watching  the history of his Caribbean  island

unfold around  him

mirrored on the shifting stage of the sea. 

While the searing sun throws

deceptive shadows over the cloudy waters

and sudden rain stitches stars in the sand

he catches images in his hand and

writes, pressing past into present.

For today, Carnival comes,

bringing history to life;

 it’s chaotic noise echoing down the years

 the chanting , the drumming, the singers,

the dancers, whose bodies move with ancient memory,

the vibrant colours which paint the sun soaked ground

with living graffiti.

And now it is gone

its essence lost to the annals of time,

only to be captured fleetingly in the poetry

of the solitary man

who writes its voice.