Poetry

Carrying Exile
Someday I will swing in a hammock
With the lustring tide just beyond the shore.
I will write of journeys, often broken,
images of my brown body – now an outer frame –
shielding an inner dislocation
here adrift; carrying exile. While
I re-member the aches, of nothings I had to endure.
Someday I will pen about these days of travels
far away from the drums of my beating heart.
Memories will roam, the nights I stayed awake;
attempting to compensate for things my body refuses to hold
Some day I will tell the young;
about narratives they want to explore.
For they too, have these dreams –
that – their feet will someday touch,
what pains beyond the recklessness of these shores
That superficial dirt that once taunts my soul
Someday I will swing in a hammock
only as a stranger – desiring to find my way home.
I will carry things exile has taught me:

Becoming, Haunting, Forgetting and Remembering!
Anthazia Kadir