My heart has found a home.
That home is a whole forest,
two mountains and a beach.
I travel back and forth.
I will not choose.
That too, is a choice.

I carry two breadfruit to the beach.
As a child I ran away from home,
my ticket to freedom this recipe:
Carry two apples in your hands.
Run. (I had no breadfruit then)
Pick apples that are of a deep,
deep green.
That way you’ll remember.

I can not leave the beach.
The breadfruits are roasting.
A swirl of smoke connects
their sweating skins to the night.
Mosquitoes dance around
the shadow of a quiet bird.
Now is eternity.

Why should I leave?
What else is there to see?
What can possibly be less forgotten
than this beauty?
The beach is empty.
All of humanity is too busy
watching nature on TV.

Ina Vandebroek (Kingston, 12 March 2015)