The sunlight fills my room
With gold and oranges;
It's like fire is beating at my door,
Not so unheard of in this country
That floods like the Nile and burns like the sun.
That people live here is at first a wonder,
Then a joy.
This country falsely sunburnt in broken visions,
Living radiant in every breath of hurricane
And ever lash of flame.
No comments:
Post a Comment