Children of Barbados

by Charles Haislet

Today, lonely for my children

a cloth bag of small diving gear

brings me back to Barbados

we lived in a duplex named Camelot

 

the children homeschooled

on the kitchen table

with three inch flags of Barbados

and America stuck in a coffee cup

 

the Pledge Of Allegiance and

the Barbadian National Anthem

sung at the start of lessons.

We ate flying fish with lime

 

and swam in a blue sea

long stretches of empty beach

collected coconuts in the surf

and derelict molasses factories

 

still held the sweet smell

of burnt sugar

their broken piers pushing

into the ocean.

 

Now the children are gone

a thousand miles and old

childlike no longer

if the world rolls right

 

perhaps they will return in

April when kindness rules

and we can sit and tell

stories on the ground

 

and throw a hook into

the heavy lake

Mozambique and Madagascar

must wait

 

only a few moments in life

really matter

you must know

what you would die for.

 
Charles Haislet is a retired physician who has been writing poetry since he was a young man. He lives in Gorden Wi, is a member of the St Croix Writers of Solon Springs, has serve on the board of the Wisconsin Writer Association, and is great fan of the International Poetry Reading put on by UWEC. He has published three poetry chapbooks.

Charles Haislet is a retired physician who has been writing poetry since he was a young man. He lives in Gorden Wi, is a member of the St Croix Writers of Solon Springs, has serve on the board of the Wisconsin Writer Association, and is great fan of the International Poetry Reading put on by UWEC. He has published three poetry chapbooks.