A world of mango trees,
where parrots fly and scream.
Markets filled with ripe bananas,
giant jicamas,
savory papayas,
or baskets of guavas,
with a mix of art and all forms of necessity.
A world of child hood friends,
Andrew, Joel, Junior, Ben.
A life bubble in the midst of the jungle,
where all are aunts or uncles.
This world my mind has made,
sets even the sky ablaze,
with wee-hour lakefront hymns,
and evening walks under amber haze.
Those tear filled days dissolve and fade,
the longer my mind tastes this favorite treat.
Bitter trials ooze away like that mud from my bare feet.
like chocolate memories,
like raging flood waters eroding banks,
above which a cement bench sits to watch and ponder,
the affects of time on life’s mind
for me, it’s a world left behind.