Twenty years! TWENT YEARS! I have lived in this tiny hamlet
a lifetime…for some. Maybe I have been here hundred years
and the time before I came is shrouded in a mythical dream.
Deep oceans of pasts that wash up on the strand of illusion
and must therefore be reinvented.
On top of a hill I can see the ocean…and yes it has sunlight on
and glitters just like a postcard or a holiday brochure.
Vaguely remember, didn’t I used to be a seafarer who spent
too much time alone, in a blue cabin, reading too many books
about intrepid travelers so I could forget my own voyage?
I wonder if Nelson Mandela remembers he once was president,
or does he dimly remember it as a youthful dream?
My dream was to be a cowboy not a shipboard cook cleaning
pots and pans and endless, the Irish stew, bacon and meatballs.
Twenty years, yes it has been a long time, a lifetime…for some.
