Image: Reflection

Reflection

These streets I have roamed, when heavy torrential rain bounces off your skin like a natural massage.
These streets I have roamed, in the mid afternoon when the sun stings your skin.
These streets I have roamed, when chased with hooligans with machetes and sticks.
These streets I have roamed, when strange soldiers with strange weapons barked orders at me.
These streets I have roamed, dancing to the steel drums, or to a DJ on a big truck blasting calypso music,
These streets I have roamed at night, looking over my shoulder for jumbies and dupes.
These streets I have roamed at night, when the moon is full, casting shadows of boats across the ocean’s surface.
These streets that I roamed, now roam around in my head, reflection comes with age.

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