Time Sails in Boy days

The clicking

of spiralling bicycle wheels

was an all too familiar chime.

At optimum speed the wind dallied

through our finger tips,

and heads tilted back to gander the evening sky.

The warmth of the sun

threaded the ocean of pigmentation in our skin

as we glided through pretentious streets.

We were just boys but we knew,

the onyx eyed gossip of idle minds,

filled the air, balanced only

with Pam’s batter.

We can almost

taste the warm cinnamon, sugar and

soft breaded texture of Miss Pam’s buns

melt in our mouths as we zoomed by,

that smell lingered in our blanched shirts.

That starving satisfaction, however,

was met with the cheesy release of macaroni pie

soaked in that brown delicious stewed chicken,

that perfected taste buds like Rudder’s ‘Madness’,

it was a salient Caribbean pleasure.

Alas the lush green haven,

time to control and brake

to again mark the road with the friction of our presence.

We buried our feet

among the blades of green and

panted with the excitement of another summer’s day.